Silhouette
by Yami Neferbre
Summary: AU: A young EMT accidentally crosses the newest serial killer terrorizing Calgary, little does he know that messing with the man put him on the killers list of victims. His only hope of survival is the two detectives on the case, and his own instincts.
1. Chapter 1

SILHOUETTE

CHAPTER ONE

Sixth. One-step closer, but not close enough. Ten was his magical number. Three surgeons, five nurses, one anesthesiologist, and the family doctor. Close, so very close, but not good enough.

Tapping the edge of his sleek surgical knife rhythmically against an erect metal pillar he stared at the figure that was supine upon the table. Quivering skin caused sweat and blood to mingle in the deep paths etched with precision on the man's abdomen. He had done much better on the symbol this time. Much cleaner, much more perfect, almost too well done for the specimen that it had been carved on. The filth. Perfection is what this surgeon's job required, and he missed the mark on the dartboard by a long shot. He caused death, and thus, he would give him the same treatment.

Lightly flicking the blade in his hands he slowly advanced upon his prey. He was the perfect predator. Sleek, stealthy in his expensive black attire, identity masked to his victim, and an impeccable ability to carve out vital organs with little effort and no imperfections. His victim's imperfection was his downfall. He would make him pay.

Frightened eyes watched him, reflecting in the smooth silver of his blade. He grinned in pleasure. The more fear this worm had, the more he struggled, the more he pleaded, and the longer he would drag out his punishment his death. With almost loving tenderness he glided the tip of the blade over the man's sternum, his grin widening when a loud whimper reached his ears through his victims gag. The sweet sound of revenge.

"I, will show you exactly how painful my life has been since you took him from me. I will show you in the most realistic way possible," he muttered, leaning close into the man's ear. He dragged the flat end of the scalpel slowly down his victim's throat and over his chest before roughly and suddenly shoving the knife down. The sharp blade cracked bone, shredded intercostals muscle, and with a quick twist of the wrist, continued its plummet. A shrill scream wrenched from the victims throat and resonated through the dark abandoned building and echoing with his killer's laughter.

-----------------

"Coffee…need coffee!"

"Alright, Soren! I understood you the first time, we'll make a coffee run!" Yami yelled in exasperation, heavily resisting the urge to slam his foot on the break and watch his friend's head ram into the dashboard. Flicking on the signal light he made for the nearby intersection on Fifth Avenue and First Street, hoping desperately that the Tim Horton's nearby was not overly busy. "You are a caffeine addict!"

Grinning devilishly Soren relaxed back in his seat, adjusting his seatbelt so he could slouch and throw his feet up on the dashboard. "I knew you would see the light. Coffee is key to the survival of us EMT's. Without coffee we would be the ones needing to be saved."

"Coffee is not essential to human life. Only to your lack of brain cells," Yami retorted, twisting the steering wheel and turning right at the intersection.

"Hey!"

Shooting a grin in Soren's direction he turned into the nearby Tim Horton's in the Telus building downtown Calgary. Luckily, it was not busy. Then again it was nearly one in the morning most people were home sleeping.

He remained silent while Soren ordered and paid for the coffee. Fervently resisting the urge to yawn he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. He didn't want to prove to Soren that he desperately needed coffee as well. They had already been on shift for six hours, and had six more to go. To put it simply, he was already exhausted. The first call of the night had been a three-casualty car crash on Deerfoot trail. That call lasted until about two hours ago. Since then it's had been calls from clubs and bars with overdoses or fallen drunkards.

Sighing he averted his attention to the news which was quietly broadcasting through the radio, he scowled at the report that was being played.

'_Rumors from this morning have been confirmed by detectives. The body found at the walk in clinic downtown yesterday, November first, is the fifth victim of the now named serial assassin, the Caduceus Killer. Reports say that it was a young nurse who used to work at the Peter Lougheed, just like the other victims, hospital and transferred to the clinic. She was three months pregnant…"_

Flicking to a different radio station he shook his head, "Two victims, fifth and sixth," he murmured softly.

"Here yah go Mr. Zombie," Soren teased, passing his comrade a large mug of coffee. Ignoring the glare he received he chugged back a large amount of his own, practically melting at the taste and instant stimulus that came from it. Making a pleased sound he relaxed into his seat as Yami pulled out of the parking lot and back out into the street. "I know you didn't sleep very well last night. Your eyes are sunken again."

Yami scowled, "I slept fine."

Grunting Soren took another swig of his coffee, "You can't lie to me bud, don't even try."

"Too late."

With a sigh Soren fell into silence, eyes trained on Yami's face as they drove aimlessly in the darkened streets of downtown Calgary. Yami seemed to feel his scrutiny and sent a sideway glare at him, one hand flicking out to playfully punch his shoulder, "Drink your coffee before it gets cold."

Shaking his head at his best friend he averted his gaze and took another long swig of his coffee. He stared absently out the window, absorbing the views of the tall glass and stone buildings that surrounded him, buildings and streets that he had known and memorized his entire life. He did not even have to pay attention to the street signs to know where they were, or which parking lot Yami was heading to for the two of them to stop for a few minutes and enjoy their stimulating drinks. He smiled, home sweet home.

A few more large swigs later and Soren found himself in a small parking lot on the far end of Sixth Street. Yami had already pulled into a parking stall and had instantly un-clasped his seat belt, taken his coffee in his hands, and slouched down in his seat. Resisting the urge to laugh at his friend, who was now cradling his coffee and slowly savoring its rich taste, Soren rolled down the window and gratefully inhaled the fresh air. Sinking even further into his seat Soren peered over at his friend, "Have you ever considered sleeping pills?"

Yami growled deeply, his calm ruined, snapping his attention to Soren he scowled, "Yes I have, no they don't work, and yes I rarely take them."

Blinking rapidly Soren shifted away from Yami slightly for effect, "You are one scary ass mind reader."

"No, you're just predictable." Yami retorted teasingly, barely dodging a well aimed –albeit playful- punch. Chuckling he leaned back against the door, peering across at Soren, whom was pretending to sulk. Some small flash caught his eye, directing his attention away from his comrade. Focusing his gaze across the street he narrowed his eyes. It was a barely built construction site, supposed to be a new hotel or something of the sort. Faintly, in one of the basement windows a pale light flickered in and out as if swinging back and forth within the room. Bewildered he glanced down at the clock it was quarter after one.

Catching Yami's train of vision Soren noticed the flickering basement light. Scowling he murmured, "No one should be in there, it's the middle of the night."

"Who says there's any one in there," Yami said softly, only to swallow his words as a human shadow cut through the flickering light. "What the hell?"

A shrill pained scream sliced through the soft noise of traffic and the low pulsating beats of the radio in the ambulance. Startled Yami and Soren nearly dropped their drinks, chills radiating up their limbs from the intensity and abruptness of the scream. Glancing at each other both seemed to instantly think the same thing as if their minds were linked. Slamming their drinks into the mug holders Yami barreled out to grab their gear while Soren scrambled for the radio.

Pushing the button on the now coffee soaked radio Soren yelled out for all EMS and Police personal in Calgary to hear, "This is Cobra69, ambulance 19, to all free Police and EMS personal, we have a possible assault transpiring at the partially built Radisson Hotel on Sixth Street Downtown. Request back-up EMS and any available Police officers to assist. Will dispatch full situation when it is deciphered. Over."

The moment he put the radio down Yami was wrenching his door open. Clambering out he followed his now running partner across the street to the half built hotel.

----------------------

"Damn bimbo needs to learn to open her incompetent ears!" Bakura grumbled dropping into the passenger seat of their 'ghost car', boisterously slamming his door shut while carefully putting his large cup of coffee in the cup holder.

Chuckling Grey entered the vehicle with far more grace and silence compared to his partner, "You just need to learn patience. It looked like her first day on the job and you just ripped her a new ass and force fed it back to her."

Shoving his seatbelt on Bakura took his coffee and loudly gulped a good portion of it down, "Her fault she wasn't listening."

Shaking his head Grey peered at his russet-eyed comrade, still not entirely used to the young mans long snowy white hair. Expression becoming serious he sipped at his own coffee, gaze demanding the attention of the other occupant of the vehicle. "Are you madder at the girl, or the fact that the body count keeps rising."

Snarling Bakura shot a sharp look at Grey, "You know the answer to that."

Scowling Grey relaxed stiffly into his seat, flicking on the ignition and driving the car out of the Tim Horton's parking lot. He grinned and shook his head as an ambulance pulled out of the drive through and past them onto the street, heading in the opposite direction that they would be. "We'll figure it out. Just you wait, we'll get a big lead tomorrow and it will be an open and shut case. Have some patience."

Raising a brow Bakura grunted, "A little un-realistic are we?"

"Yeah, but wishful thinking never hurt any one," Grey chuckled, flicking on his signal light and making for the District One Police Office downtown. "This guy may seem good, but he'll slip up soon, they all do."

"Hmph, your little fantasies had better be right," Bakura said, taking another long chug of his coffee, ignoring the disgusted cringe Grey was giving him for it. "I am really getting sick of finding more heartless bodies…literally. This man is sending out a message by removing those hearts and using the Caduceus symbol. He's got some sort of beef with the hospitals. We just don't know what brought it on and why is he killing these specific individuals in such an intimate and exceptionally personal manner."

"Don't worry, we'll figure it out Kura'," Grey assured, sending his partner a comforting grin, the only response he gained was an abrupt grunt.

They remained silent for the rest of the drive. Bakura continued to drink his coffee while staring at the clock, watching the near ten minute drive roll by. Even at this early hour in the morning travelling downtown was long, the lack of vehicles did not stop the lights from having short cycles. Pulling into a secure parking lot both gave out relieved sighs and moved to remove their seatbelts, eager to go and sit in a warm office and possibly go home soon.

Grey and Bakura nearly jumped out of their seats at the sudden radio transmission blaring in their vehicle. The abruptness had the two gasping and then completely locked into the call.

"_This is Cobra69, ambulance 19, to all free Police and EMS personal, we have a possible assault transpiring at the partially built Radisson Hotel on Sixth Street Downtown. Request back-up EMS and any available Police officers to assist. Will dispatch full situation when it is deciphered. Over._"

"Let's go," Bakura said stiffly, reaching to the dash and flicking on the siren. Grey responded in perfect synch, slamming the breaks, swiveling the wheel, and rapidly accelerating back in the direction they had just come from. Now, if only the other vehicles on the road would be as cooperative. Amid much confusion, horn honking, and Bakura vehemently swearing, they barreled through the cars stopped at the

intersection and sped off towards Sixth Street.

------------------

Cautiously, Yami pushed the unlocked back door to the hotel open, he and Soren both cringing when it loudly creaked and groaned. Exchanging a small look of horror they meandered forward, both trying to make as little noise as possible. It was incredibly hard to do considering both were wearing heavy steel toe boots, and Yami was carrying their weighty bag of equipment.

Aside from the odd sliver of moonlight breaking through the windows, the main floor of the building was dark and half built. Drywall was screwed on, but not mudded, the floor was still plywood, and electrical wiring was strewn about haphazardly. Other equipment and left over lunch containers were randomly scattered in the drywall dust, a perfect obstacle to trip on.

Scrambling for his flashlight Soren flicked it on to the lowest setting and peered around for a nearby stairwell. Finding one not far to their right he pointed it out to Yami. Yami nodded in response and signaled for him to turn off the flashlight and follow him. Abiding by that he shoved the instrument back into his pocket and cautiously followed him to the stairs. He trusted Yami's courage far better than his own, grateful that his partner had decided to take the lead.

Carefully Yami slung the medical bag over his shoulder before taking a slow and almost timid decent to the first stair. He nearly sighed with relief when no creaking or loud noise came from the action. Confidence up he continued down the stairs, glancing back at Soren every once in a while to make sure his friend was surviving behind him.

He could hear movement below, soft talking and the odd muffled grunt or possible scream. With each sound from the basement and every step closer he came, the colder his blood became and the faster his heartbeat rose. Soren's heavy breathing behind him was a subtle comfort, reminding him that he was not alone. Upon reaching the bottom he peered around. Just down the hall to his left he could see the flickering light from underneath a barely hinged on door. Soren stepped down beside him, widespread hand resting on his shoulder to give comfort and strength to both of them.

Glancing back at Soren Yami murmured, "Take the bag, you tend to the patient. If there is any need to fend someone off I'll do it. I have a hell of a lot more defensive training than you do."

"Alright," Soren agreed without question. Taking the bag in his hand he gulped loudly before following Yami.

They inched slowly down the hall, backs pressed against the partially built walls while minding their footing and trying to make as little noise as possible. The noises grew louder with each step they took, one voice clearly gagged and trying to scream in agony, while the other was softly whispering with a sharp and cold tone that caused shivers to ripple up and down the two EMT's spines.

Freezing Soren frantically gripped Yami's shoulder, the noises echoing in his ears and causing both fear and doubt to overwhelm him, "We should wait for the cops. Its protocol, we can't enter a scene that is not deemed safe."

Sighing Yami glanced back at him, "I know, and we will…"

Another gagged scream sliced vociferously through them, followed by a deep menacing laugh that instantly left them both shivering again. Both closed their eyes, flinching at the noises that continued to emit from the room.

Clenching his fists Yami snapped his gaze to Soren, gripping his friends arm tightly to get his attention, "Scratch that, we can't. Whoever is in there is being tortured and will probably be dead by the time backup gets here. We have to do something and you know it."

Struggling with what he knew was right and what had been forced in his head through all his training Soren felt his body begin to shake as he stared into his best friends determined eyes. Gulping harshly he nodded slowly, his want to do the right thing overwhelming his training, "Alright, let's go."

Slowly Yami took a deep breath, calming his own racing nerves, exchanging a look with Soren to make sure his partner was ready before he reached out for the door handle. Holding up his hand he counted down from three with his fingers, making sure Soren was watching. The instant he was done he slammed the door open and shot into the room, Soren's frantic footsteps behind him.

He nearly collapsed when he absorbed the scene before him, his heart wrenching and his stomach lurching in disgust and horror. A man dressed completely in black and a balaclava stood over the other individual in the room with a set of what looked like hedge clippers, he had seen them before in an autopsy room, in his hands; while his other was delicately moving flesh aside so he could properly access the clearly beating heart. The victim was fully pinned down to a table, his chest was cut in a precise and perfect y-incision, three ribs already snapped half way and removed from his torso and internal organs exposed. He was gagged, his expression one of sheer horror and agony.

Yami barely had another moment to think before the assailant charged towards him. Checking behind him to make sure Soren wasn't there he crouched down and readied himself. He could see Soren run in a blur past him towards the victim, yelling desperately into the handset radio for backup.

The masked man was on him in an instant, growling in possessive anger with a large surgical knife in his hands. Shoving out one of his feet Yami connected sharply with the man's knee, forcing the man to hunch over into his already bent elbow. Feeling ribs crack against his extended joint Yami snapped his other hand up and grabbing the man's shirt spun on his knees and wrenched the man over him and into the wall with a cry.

Chancing a quick look over his shoulder he watched Soren release the last restraint on the victim before carefully maneuvering him down to the floor, desperately trying to staunch the bleeding with thick wades of gauze. The man's groans and shrill screams of pain rang loudly in his ears, deafening him and briefly distracting him from his predicament. That distracting did not last for long. The assailant sprang towards him, obviously running high on adrenalin, and swung a hard and perfectly executed punch. The man's fist connecting viciously with his sternum snapped him roughly back into reality. The air in his lungs was harshly forced out and he toppled back to the floor, his head connecting brutally with the concrete floor.

He had no time to think and barely any time to react before the man was hovering over him again, fist raised to execute another hit. Reacting Yami crossed his arms over his face, his one wrist taking the brunt of the blow and twisting at an odd angle. Holding back an anguished cry he snapped his knee up roughly, hitting the man hard between the legs. The moment the assailant hunched over Yami rammed his fist into the man's exposed jaw, the action sent the man rolling off of him and into the nearby table.

"Yami, are you alright!" Soren cried out, desperately trying to calm the patient –whom was screaming piercingly in agony- while staunching the profuse bleeding with his hands.

"I'm fine," Yami grunted, rising to his now shaky feet. He knew he had lied, especially when he felt the intense rush of pain to his head and chest. Gasping sharply he averted his attention to the masked assailant whom was getting back up.

Suddenly the shrill whine of sirens and the flash of red and blue lights echoed in the small room. Joy then dismay surged through Yami at the sound. His joy shoved aside the instant he realized that the attacker was both in panic, and that he was between him and the way out. Bracing himself Yami resisted the urge to barrel out of the way as the man charged him again. It was at times like this that he hated being short. The man tackled him, crouching low and ramming into his stomach, boldly lifting him and slamming his back against the door.

The sharp crack of wood breaking filled Yami's ears, the door shattering from both their weight and the sheer force the man used to propel them into it. Crashing to the floor with the now broken door beneath him Yami gasped sharply, the air once again being knocked from his chest. He wasn't even able to inhale before the man pummeled him in the sternum once more, loud cracking along with Yami's own strangled cry confirming the damage. Large hands squeezed his neck vehemently, his attacker growling above him and placing a knee on his stomach forcing him to snap his eyes open. They locked with a pair of eerily cold bright green eyes; the heated glare causing Yami to shiver as the oxygen slowly stopped reaching his brain.

"Yami!" His comrade's panicked scream created an unexpected surge of adrenaline through him. Shoving his knee into the man's side and snapping his face forward he slammed his forehead into the man's nose, breaking it and causing blood to spurt into his face. Inhaling painfully he continually slammed his fist into the same spot he had it on the man's side a moment before, directly connecting with the man's kidney.

It worked. The man rolled off of him, spluttering blood and holding his damaged side. Gasping for breath Yami placed his hand over his chest, glaring blearily at his attacker while the man slowly tried to stand up.

Yelling from above them and the crashing of footsteps snapped both their attention towards the stairs. The attacker averted back to Yami, masked face unreadable as he growled out before dashing towards an open window at the end of the hall, "You'll pay for this."

"Yami!" Soren screamed again, lean figure appearing in the doorway just as the several police officers, two detectives, and a pair of EMT's stumbled down the stairs.

"Go back to the patient," Yami rasped, coughing at the dry pain that welled up in his chest and head, his other hand limp.

Crashing down the stairs Grey and Bakura both watched on as the masked man squirmed out of the window and out of their sight, a clearly injured EMT lying on a shattered door, and the other barely visible in the doorway thoroughly covered in blood. They shared a quick glance, both clearly bewildered as to what exactly it was that they had just stumbled into.

Shoving his confusion aside Grey yelled at the police officers that followed them, "We got a runner! Get up there and make sure he doesn't get away!"

"Yes, Detective!" They hurried said before dashing back up where they had just entered.

Satisfied he turned back to see Bakura storming over to the fallen EMT, his frustration from earlier evident and clearly clouding his judgment. It was then that he got a clear look at the EMT and nearly gasped in recognition; he knew the kid and knew the consequences of roughing him up. Blinking in shock Grey lunged to stop his partner from making a rash decision but was too late.

"Are you out of your mind!?" Bakura barked, his frustration rising when Yami scowled at him instead of cowering like most. "You are supposed to wait for the police to clear the scene and deem it safe before you enter. I should have you fired for this you irresponsible idiot, you're lucky you're alive!"

Staggering to his feet, using the wall as a crutch, Yami glared angrily at Bakura, "If we had waited that long, our patient would be dead. I'm doing my duty and saving him, now you do yours and leave me alone so I can finish mine."

Fury blowing through the roof Bakura grabbed a handful of Yami's shirt, ignoring Grey's warning not to and Soren's shocked cry. "Don't you dare try and preach to me about doing my duty. You just broke the rules set out for you in yours!"

"To save a life," Yami yelled, pleased when Bakura's expression rapidly lost its ferocity and turned to stunned. "Now get out of my way so we can get that man to a hospital before he bleeds out!"

"The other EMT's can handle it, you need a reminder…!" Bakura stopped abruptly, his stunned expression becoming even more so as Yami let out a frustrated yell before the palm of his hand slammed up into the detective's nose. Gasping in pain Bakura stumbled back, clutching his bleeding nose he nearly toppled to the floor when Yami shoved past him. Looking at his blood soaked hands he turned to watch the four EMT's begin to prep the patient to be moved onto a spine board. "You asshole, you broke my nose."

Grey gave him a less than sympathetic look, "Shut it Bakura, he just saved the next victim of the Caduceus Killer. That kid gave us our big break."

Stunned Bakura looked in at the patient, trying to see him through the blur of the four EMT's rapidly bandaging him and rolling him onto the spine board. He gasped at the carved caduceus on the man's stomach and the gaping chest wound so much like all the other victims of the serial killer.

His attention was grabbed by the young EMT that had just stood up to him. He cringed at the sight of the young man hunching over to the side and hacking violently, a small bit of blood spattering the floor below him. He narrowed him eyes, hand still gingerly covering his shattered nose. This kid had very clearly just put his life on the line to save this man, and paid dearly for it. He owed him a thank you, and an apology. Neither he was going to be able to give right away.

The four EMT's dashed past them, delegating duties to each other as the carried the victim on the spine board up the stairs and out to one of the waiting ambulances. Shaking his head Bakura glanced at Grey, "I could never do that job."

"Why not?" his partner asked.

"Too many lost and not enough saved."

----------------------------

As gently as they could the four EMT's placed the spine board onto the already prepped stretcher. While Yami and one of the other EMT's strapped the patient in Soren and the other ran across the street to their parked ambulance.

Clambering into the drivers seat Soren buckled in, unconsciously reaching out and taking a swig of his coffee, scowling and spluttering as the cold liquid ran over his tongue. "Gah! Cold coffee…that's sacrilege!"

"Get driving!" yelled the other EMT, whom was strapping into the passenger seat.

With an exaggerated pout Soren turned on the ignition and drove the ambulance to where Yami and the other EMT were waiting for them with the patient. He waited a moment while the two pulled the stretcher into the back of the rig, calming the moaning man as they did so. The instant he heard the doors close he slammed on the gas petal and cringed when the EMT beside him flared the lights and sirens.

"I need to invest in a mega thermos, cold coffee is wrong."

"Dammit Soren, shut up and drive!" Yami yelled hoarsely, from the back of the rig.

He did so, speeding up and racing towards the Foothills Hospital, cursing as he went at every vehicle that didn't have the common sense to move out of his way.


	2. Chapter 2

SILHOUETTE

_**A/N**__**:**__*Patiently waits for objects to start flying her way*I know, I kinda fell off the face of the earth for what….a year and a half….For those few fans that still actually want to read my stuff, thanks for being patient, its been a bit of a rough and busy year and a bit…well…almost two years now. I hope that this story is worth the dropping of the two that I had been writing before. I needed a change of pace, something new, something not quite so dark. Anyway, I am done rambling, hope you like this chapter._

CHAPTER TWO

Images continued to flash in his mind, an old fashioned projector that blurred and distorted the pictures rolling through his vision that he wished he could erase. It was his mind silently screaming that it wasn't real, even though deep down he knew it had been. Cringing he tried to block them out, his efforts failing as the clarity of the images increased to perfection. The victim with the caduceus symbol carved on his abdomen and an entire section of his chest removed, the soft thump of his heart visible through the profuse amounts of blood. All the surgical instruments, the table and the noises that rang out from the room before they had even entered it continued to disturb him. But, of all those images and sounds, the man's eyes were haunting him the most. Brilliant snake green, eerily devoid of anything but the purest evil he had ever seen, ghostly and sharp.

Shuddering Yami snapped his eyes open locking on the ceiling above him. His breathing was ragged, chest barely expanding from the damage, and his asthma drying his throat and lungs from the effort to pull in oxygen. Swallowing hard he tried to slow his breathing, the painful heaving aggravating his wounds from last night. Groaning he covered his face with his hands, scowling at the sensation of rough tensor bandage rubbing against his skin.

Pulling his one hand away he stared vehemently at it, the bastard had sprained his good wrist on top of cracking a few ribs, cutting and bruising his back beyond belief, and creating a rather angry concussion. Holding back a snarl he sat up, slowly as not to aggravate his already damaged torso. Rubbing his throbbing temple he glanced down at the alarm clock beside him, it was close to five in the evening.

He had not slept since he got off work early in the morning, not only did his injuries and his curtains inability to keep the sunlight out prevent this, but so did the events of last night. He knew that he and Soren had stirred the hornet's nest; he knew exactly what it was that the two of them stumbled on. The Caduceus Killer's sixth attack, sixth victim, and they had stopped him from finishing his work.

A loud crash and a deep voice cursing beyond his bedroom door snapped him out of his reminiscing. Easing himself from his bed he gathered up his new uniform and a towel before heading towards the door. Stepping out into the upstairs landing he glanced down beyond the railing at the open floor below him. A soft smile gracing his face when he spotted his father grumbling and gathering up a fallen coffee cup, his German shepherd, Reno, vigorously licking the spilt liquid from the floor. Thankfully none of the fallen coffee had landed on the police uniform he was already clad in for work.

His father, Garret, glanced up at him, cursed colourfully again before calling up, "Sorry kiddo, I didn't mean to wake you."

"You didn't," Yami answered simply, leaning against the raining, absently watching Reno run up the stairs towards him. "I was already awake."

Garret narrowed his eyes suspiciously, knowingly, "You didn't sleep again did you." Receiving a brief nod for an answer he scowled, placing the broken cup in the garbage he crossed his arms giving his son the ever so famous cop look. "You'd better start taking those pills your doctor gave you, or I'll start forcing you."

Quirking a brow Yami chuckled softly, reaching down to affectionately pet the dog's head before turning towards the bathroom, "Yeah, I bet you will."

"I mean it Yami!" Garret yelled up only for his son to disappear out of his sight and the bathroom door in the upstairs to close abruptly.

Switching on the tap to the shower Yami stripped and clambered in, hissing sharply at the heat of the water but forced himself not to turn it down. Sighing softly he relaxed while the water harshly began to cleanse him from last nights encounter. It wasn't enough. He felt filthy, more so than he normally did after working a tough shift. His mind fabricating the concept of the killer's mere presence and the fact that they had touched was soiling him with the man's malevolence. It was as if the killer was permeating his evil through smell and bodily fluids. Snatching a cloth he saturated it with water and soap and started to viciously scrub the rest of the sensation and actual grit from his tanned skin.

Once satisfied that he was clean, he climbed out of the shower and dried off. Absently cleaning up his appearance as he stared in the currently misty mirror, his mind trained on the already darkening bruises the killer had inflicted on him. He looked even worse than he thought, the lack of sleep making his naturally tanned skin pale and around his eyes dark. The hand print bruises on his neck from the killer last night dark and impossible to miss, he snarled at that, glad that he had grabbed a turtleneck to wear to work under his uniform.

Abruptly turning away from the mirror he put his uniform on, hung up his towel and vacated the steamy bathroom. Descending the stairs he ignored the concerned glare his father was giving him and gathered a cup of coffee and a grapefruit from the fridge. Sitting at the table directly across from Garret Yami silently started eating his breakfast, gracefully chugging back his coffee and stroking Reno's head when the dog came and sat beside him.

He was blatantly avoiding Garret, he knew his father well enough to see a lecture or interrogation in the future before they both left for work. Though Garret was a hard and stereotypical cop, in his home and social life he was a very different person. He was exceptionally protective and very caring in his own way. His friends, whom all he worked with, called him the giant teddy bear. He is a softy at heart, with a pure muscle body and a temper much akin to a wolverine. Thankfully, only once had Yami seen that dreadful temper directed at him, and never again would he want to see it. He had been lucky then as well, that temper and had been fuelled with intense worry, Garret had barely touched him unlike what he did to most others that crossed him.

Catching Garret shifting in the corner of his vision Yami held back a flinch, _here it comes_ he thought and slowly lifted his gaze to his father's.

Placing his cup of coffee back on the table Garret folded his hands together and leaned against the table, peering across it at his son, whom was clearly expecting him to speak and appeared nervous, "Soren called me last night you know, just after you told me you were going to be home late." Catching the slight scowl that crossed his nineteen-year-old son's face he sighed deeply. "He told me that the two of you got into a bit of a scrap last night at one of your calls. That's the real reason why you were going to be late home, isn't it?"

Tensely sipping his coffee Yami glanced down and nodded, "Yeah," he answered simply.

"Are you going to tell me what happened…or am I to rely on the radio transmissions I overheard last night." Seeing his son flinch sharply he shook his head, rubbing the side of his face in exasperation. "You seem to constantly hope that I won't figure these things out Yami. Why can't you just tell me instead of hiding it and expecting me not to find out."

"Because I don't want to talk about it!" Yami responded shortly, snapping his gaze back up to glare at Garret. "You need to learn to stay out of my business and not snoop around until I am ready to talk, and Soren needs to stop being your little phone buddy."

Frowning Garret leaned back in his chair, absently tapping one of his fingers on the table, "So, you're telling me it's a bad thing that he decided to tell me that you were being treated in the hospital?"

Yami's dark eyes narrowed, "I'm fine."

"Really," Garret snapped, pointing sharply at Yami's bandaged hand. "A concussion, sprained wrist, and five broken, attempted strangling, bruised back or stressed ribs are nothing a father should be worrying about, hm?"

"He took a worse beating, if that's any comfort," Yami retorted.

Grunting in frustration Garret clenched his fist, "That's not the point. I don't care about him; it's my stubborn son that concerns me."

Slowly running his fingers through his hair Yami held them at the back of his head, eyes closing. The pain from his concussion was intensifying, and Garret wasn't helping matters. "I'm more worried about who he is and what he will do as opposed to what he did to me."

"Meaning?"

Yami paused, moving to rub his temple before peering at Garret, silently deciding just to spit it out, "It was the Caduceus Killer."

Instantly Yami bit his lip nervously, he could see Garret's temper flaring, the vociferous tapping of his shoe below the table emphasizing that. Gulping he slouched down in his chair, he wasn't afraid of much, but Garret's temper was one of those few things. Dark garnet eyes cautiously watched Garret struggle with his anger, waiting for him to start yelling.

Shaking his head Garret exhaled sharply, calming himself as best he could before speaking, "You can be so predictable sometimes Yami. I figured it was something like this, something big and the reason you tried not to say anything was because you didn't want me to be worried or angry. Well, guess what kiddo, if you had told me last night when you called I would only be worried, but since you decided to wait, anger has definitely come into the mixture. You mess with a serial killer and then don't tell me right away is simply asking for me to be livid." Seeing Yami drop and his head eyes locking on the table, he continued. "What the hell were you thinking? Obviously there was no call, out of what I deciphered from Soren there were no cops on scene until after you got into your little fight. What ever happened to waiting for the police to clear the scene first?"

Clenching his fists Yami peered back up at Garret, expression icy, "We saved that man's life. If we had waited as long as it took for the police to get there, that man's heart would have been removed and he would be dead. I'm sorry for not being able to stand back and do nothing while someone is screaming in agony!"

Resting his elbows on the table Garret cupped his jaw with his hands. He could see that his son's displeasure was rising, his chest was heaving and a slightly audible wheeze could be heard when he breathed, the young man's dark eyes were trained on his face and his jaw was locked. "Calm down Yami, I knew you would not charge into a predicament without probable cause. Saving a life is an understandable reason. Now, how is your mind handling last night, your lack of sleep is not a positive indicator for me."

Relaxing into his chair Yami sat forward and rested his head on his folded arms atop the table, "Not well," he admitted, mind racing through the images that had been flashing before his eyes the entire night. "I can't get it out of my head."

Leaning forward Garret gently pushed the still very hot cup of coffee against Yami's hand, pleased when his son glanced at him questionly but still picked up the steaming drink, "Then talk about it, I'm all ears Yami, and will be for another few hours before work," he said, smiling softly.

With a somewhat reluctant nod Yami took a long drink of his coffee before tentatively doing as advised.

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Chucking several T-3's into his mouth, Bakura forcefully shoved them down his throat with a healthy gulp of extremely hot coffee. The instant the tip of the cup touched his bandaged nose he cursed, spluttered and nearly dropped the only thing keeping him sane and awake. A sharp glare was sent in Grey's direction when he heard his partner stifle a boisterous laugh. Dramatically slouching in the passenger seat of the car Bakura stared down the street with clear distain, practically cradling his cup of coffee while doing so.

They had recently left the Foothills hospital, having spent the better part of three hours there interviewing the now conscious victim and gathering as much information from him as they could. It had all been sketchy, partially remembered flashes, sentences and other mostly unusable information. The surgeon had been in too much pain to remember much. Though, he did manage to give at least a small bit of useful knowledge. He recognized the man's voice, along with remembering hearing the killer say something about needing revenge for his son. Now, all Grey and Bakura had to do was piece the actual murders with the concept of revenge and the killer's son, and it was possible that they would be able to finally generate a list of suspects. How large that list of suspects ended up being is what frightened them the most.

At the moment they were driving away from one of the EMT's, Soren Drayven, home after interviewing him. It hadn't gotten them far in terms of catching the killer. Soren had been directed strictly by his partner to tend to the victim, he paid little attention to the killer, and the only times he did was when his partner was on the losing side of the fight.

So, they were moving onto the other EMT, Yami Horakhty.

Taking out a piece of paper that they had written the addresses down on that morning Bakura stared down at the one they were currently heading to, "Good, these two live not that far from each other. Look for house number 519; we are on the right street already."

Hazel eyes scanning the houses Grey finally spotted the house they wanted. It was a corner lot, appearing to be a three or four level split; it looked to be a fairly large home. Two vehicles were parked in the drive way, both contrasts to each other. One was a boxy Dodge Ram fully loaded red pickup truck, while the other was a classy black and silver Honda CR-V. Grey chuckled; they displayed their owner's personalities perfectly.

Pulling up in front of the house he glanced at Bakura, stifling another laugh, his partner was adjusting the scratchy bandage on his nose. "Are you going to retract your statement last night about apologising to him?"

"No," Bakura snapped, gathering the case file and his coffee he exited the car. "Hurts like hell, yes. I am currently wondering how the hell that kid could hit so well, yes. Am pissed as hell, yes. But, that does not mean that I'm not going to apologise."

"This should be fun," Grey grinned, following his partner to the front door. He was greatly looking forward to Bakura finding out exactly who Yami's father was, and he knew for a fact that the man has clearly not yet left for work.

Briskly knocking on the door Bakura stood back, forcefully quelling his discomfort and irritation. He hated apologies, and rarely did he ever agree that he needed to give one. But, in light of last nights events he knew he had gone overboard on the young EMT. The kid had given them their break; along with put his life on the line to save that break. And, clearly, he had desperately tried to keep the killer there for as long as he could. He had been out of line with his comment, and he knew he deserved to have his nose shattered, didn't make spitting out the apology any easier.

He nearly jumped when the door opened, Yami standing in the doorway garbed for work his expression less than surprised to see them there. Instantly Bakura noticed the dramatically large pupils, even though it was clearly darker inside the house than outside, along with the tensor bandage on the young mans left hand. Gulping Bakura held back a cringe, a concussion and a sprained wrist, what else had Yami endured last night to save the surgeon?

Seeing that Bakura was lost for words Grey piped up, "Hello Yami, I know you're probably heading off for your shift soon, but do you mind if we ask you a few questions."

Yami nodded, stepping aside to allow them in the house, "Of course Grey, come in."

Bakura stumbled at hearing Yami say Grey's name, glancing between the two he stammered, "Wait, he never told you his name, how did you know what it is."

"I know his Dad Bakura," Grey answered simply, shoving his partner through the door. "I've distantly known Yami since he was little. You never let me get that across to you last night and I just wanted to see your reaction today."

Taking his boots off Bakura grumbled before facing Yami again, "How are you feeling?"

Shrugging Yami signalled for them to sit in the living room beside them, "I've had worse, please go sit down, can I get you two anything?"

"We're good thanks," Grey answered, giving Bakura sharp elbow of encouragement.

"Um," Bakura started, sending a pointed glare at Grey first, sitting down stiffly on the couch. "I'm sorry for what I said last night, I was out of line."

The young man faced him, his expression unreadable, "I'm sorry as well, I really shouldn't have struck you."

A light chuckle from upstairs caught the group's attention, all three turning to see Garret coming down the stairs. Bakura nearly chocked in shock, frantically taking a better hold on his coffee as he stared on at the man advancing down the stairs. Gulping back a vociferous curse he shot a piercing glare at his giggling partner. Garret was the Chief of Police in Calgary, he was also one of the most respected cops in the entire police service, and everyone knew who he was.

"Glad to see that you can say sorry every once in a while Detective," Garret teased, stepping off the stairs with Reno at his heels, moving to wrap an affectionate arm around his son's shoulders, whose head barely reached his shoulders.

Resisting the urge to pummel Grey into the ground, Bakura smiled nervously staring at the duo before him. Yami looked absolutely nothing like his father. He was maybe 5"6, not overly built but evenly toned. Spiky crimson, ebony, and blonde hair creating his very unique appearance, along with his natural soft bronze skin, which was light in comparison to his fathers. Garret was broad, over six feet tall, and held the appearance of an ancient Egyptian general with his deeply tanned flesh, dark green eyes, and very pronounced musculature. He had no chance of knowing that Yami was Garret's son, and Grey was clearly counting on that today, but it was probably the reason why he had tried to stop him from attacking the EMT last night.

"I certainly try sir."

Waving a hand dismissively at Bakura, Garret retrieved two fresh cups of coffee for him and Yami, gently encouraging his son to sit down in the couch across from the two detectives. "I'm off duty at the moment, Bakura; you can drop the honorifics. I already feel old enough around my son; you don't need to add to it."

"So, Yami," Grey started, taking the pad of paper and pen from Bakura, staring across at Yami intently. "Can you tell us anything from last night, anything we can use?"

Sighing deeply Yami rested his elbows on his knees, leaning over and bowing his head he closed his eyes. He had just finished this conversation with his father not that long ago, he was having a hard enough time dealing with it, and he wasn't in a particularly talkative mood. Feeling Garret lightly rub his back, being very mindful of the damage, in encouragement he lifted his gaze back to the two detectives. "I didn't get a good look at his face, he was wearing a balaclava. I can't tell you anything more about the scene than what you already know, we tried not to tamper with anything, but he didn't make that easy."

"What kind of injuries do you think you gave him?" Bakura pressed. "Just encase he gets himself checked out at the hospital."

Running through the fight last night Yami murmured, "Concussion, damaged ribs, I hit his kidney and groin hard enough that he's probably going to be peeing blood for a week. Um, bruised knees, probably some damage to his back, I got his jaw pretty good too, and a broken nose."

Both Detectives stared at him in shock, mouths slightly agape as they absorbed the estimated amount of damage. They were both reeling at the concept of someone so small being able to cause that much harm. Their stunned silence was broken when Garret smiled with pride, "You weren't lying when you said you gave him one hell of a beating."

"You're obviously not much better off," Bakura stated, pointing at Yami's hand.

"Again, I've had worse," Yami assured, taking a long drink of his coffee.

"Is there anything else from last night that stands out to you?" Grey interjected, absently toying with the pen in his hand.

"His eyes," Yami almost whispered. "They're unique, bright green, almost the colour of a tree snake."

Scribbling that down on his notepad Grey murmured, "Can you guess his height or anything like that?"

Nodding reluctantly Yami polished off his cup of coffee, "He was close to your height, Grey, a little taller though, so probably close to the six feet mark. What glimpses I did get of his skin showed that he was definitely white, very pale. He definitely was not small in build though; he seemed to be in pretty good shape. That's pretty much all I can tell you, I was a little too preoccupied to take a really good look at him."

"Understandable," said Bakura, taking the pad of paper from Grey's hands. "I have to ask, for the report sake at least, why did you go in there if there wasn't a call?"

Standing up Yami strode into the kitchen placed his cup of coffee in the sink and retrieved his work bag from the bottom of the stairs, "We heard the victim scream from the parking lot across the street, we had stopped for a bit to relax. We dispatched the call as soon as we heard it, but once we got down there I couldn't stand hearing that man being tortured, so we went in."

"Do you regret it?"

Yami stopped abruptly at the front door, attention directing towards Bakura, "Never," he said stiffly. "Saving lives is my job, I did what I had to do to make sure of that, end of story."

Garret sighed audibly, watching his son roughly pull on his jacket and grab his keys, "Do you have your cell phone?" Yami taking the said thing haphazardly out of his pocket to show him was his answer. "Call me to come get you if you're too tired to drive, I should be off long before you."

"I know," Yami stated, giving Reno a pat on the head before coming over and gently giving his father a grateful hug. "Thanks for this morning Dad, I'll call you when we aren't busy."

Grinning and slapping Yami playfully on the hip he gently shoved him towards the door, "Get going you, can't have Soren's fiancé calling to yell at me for you not being there ten minutes early."

Yami gave Garret a halfhearted glare and turned his attention to Bakura and Grey, "I hope I was at least a little helpful, and sorry again for the punch."

Bakura waved him off, dismissing the statement, "You were far more helpful than the victim, and like I said earlier, I deserved it. Take care of yourself."

"Plan on it," Yami retorted as he clambered out the door, boisterously closing it in Reno's whining face.

The three in the living room jumped in surprise at the annoying ringing of a cell phone, shoving his hand into his pocket Bakura fumbled for his phone. Finally finding it he flipped it open and barked into it, "Detective Bakura speaking." Instantly he went silent as the individual on the other end frantically pored information into his ear, his expression darkening the more and more the person spoke. Finally, the call ended and Bakura viciously shoved the phone back into his pocket and stood up, glancing down at Grey. "The bastard got to him at the hospital. The nurses apparently weren't watching him and he got to him not that long ago, his hearts gone and like the others apparently there's a symbol on his."

Stunned Grey rose to his feet, "What?! How!?"

Glancing between Grey and Garret Bakura forcefully calmed himself, releasing a shaky breath, "They want us down at the hospital right now."

"Grey, Bakura," Garret said, catching the two as they dashed to the front door. "Keep me posted on the case, call as soon as you learn anything new."

Both answered simultaneously before dashing out, "Will do sir."

Hearing the door slam Garret cringed, scowling slightly before looking down at Reno whom was staring back at him, "Why can't people learn to nicely close doors, is it really that hard of a concept." Reno merely tilted his head to the side, shaking his head Garret walked back to the kitchen. "Wrong person to ask."

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"How do you do it man?" Soren questioned, following Yami somnolently into their favourite trendy café downtown, yawning and rubbing his eyes as he did so. "I pull one all nighter and I am a bloody zombie, this is what…your second, and you're all fine and dandy"

"Fine and dandy," Yami scoffed, gripping his friend's shoulders and guiding his stumbling form to the line up to get coffee. "Unlike you, I've been doing these for years, I can survive on minimal sleep, you can't. But, that does not mean that I am fine and dandy, I'm just better at hiding my exhaustion."

"No shit," Soren yawned, eyes scanning the menu up top slowly deciding what he wanted.

Neither noticed the constant stares they were receiving from those in the café, most of them were young individuals shocked to see two paramedics casually strutting around and not trying to resuscitate someone. They were used to it now, the uniform constantly drew attention, whether they were cops, paramedics or firefighters their mere presence would peek people's interest.

Peering around Soren grinned and waved at them all, they all blushed sheepishly and snapped back to their conversations, all but one. Furrowing his brow Soren stared at a lone man in a corner, sunglasses and a toque completely masking any distinct features. He felt a cold shiver run down his back from the man's shrouded gaze, shuddering he tapped Yami on the shoulder whispering to him, "We got a creeper in the corner."

Quirking a brow incredulously at his friend, Yami subtly glanced over his shoulder, catching sight of the man his expression fell into a scowl. Instantly, like Soren, he felt a cold chill rip up his spine and a pang of familiarity surge through him. Stunned he resisted the urge to step back, reaching out he turned Soren back to the front till, "Ignore him, let's just get out stuff and go, we can enjoy it in the rig."

"Agreed," Soren said stiffly, moving to give his order at the acquiescence of the cashier.

Paying for their coffee and the few items they bought to nibble on, they gathered them up and quickly left the café, glad to be out and away from the man's scrutiny. Sighing with relief they laughed at their antics and climbed into the rig, setting into their seats and turning on the ignition to ward off the cold winter wind outside.

"There's no full moon outside to blame his weirdness on either," Soren joked, rummaging in the bag for a muffin and keeping his coffee perfectly balanced in his other hand. "You got to love the people out there that just adore sitting in corners and being creepers. He's probably venting out revenge on all those that are normal."

Chuckling Yami undid the zipper to his thick work jacket and took a long drink of his coffee, "Who knows."

Nibbling on his muffin Soren looked over at his best friend, he could see how tense he was. Yami generally had perfect posture, held himself with confidence and always appeared to be focused. Not tonight, he was the complete opposite, distracted and slouching. Obviously he was in a lot more pain than he was going to admit, along with mind worrying over the events of last night. Sighing Soren leaned over slightly peering intently at Yami, whom seemed to be avoiding his gaze, "How are you feeling, be honest."

Dark garnet eyes slowly turned to his, the pupils very clearly dilated, "I've been worse." Scowling Soren glared at him, satisfied when Yami growled and gave him the answer he wanted. "Like shit alright, and worried out of my bloody mind. Happy now?"

"Yes."

"How bout you, you clearly haven't slept," Yami pressed, turning in his seat to properly face his friend.

Shrugging Soren murmured, "Worried too, especially now that those two detectives confirmed what I thought. Abby spent most of last night screaming and crying at me, she won't listen to me at all when I try to justify why we went in, she's completely blaming it on you."

"Not surprising," Yami retorted. "Though, I did make the call."

"Don't event try to take all the blame Yami, we both agreed and we both went in. The fault and the job well done belongs to both of us, though you were definitely more of a hero than me."

"I wouldn't exactly call that being a hero, more like stupid and reckless endangerment," Yami said abruptly, turning on the ignition to allow more heat to circulate the vehicle. "I just hope that the guy survived the night with his injuries."

Both grew silent when the radio turned on, loudly blaring through the speakers eerily answering the hopeful statement that Yami had just said.

'_It has just been confirmed by Police that the surviving victim of the Caduceus killer from last night, was found dead and heartless in his hospital bed. The detectives on the case refuse to disclose any other information about the two EMT's from last night and what new information they found today on the victim."_

Stunned Yami and Soren collapsed back into their seats, their hearts tightening in dismay at the news, both forcefully holding back the welling emotions within them. Exhaling harshly Yami bit his lip, eyes drifting over to lock with Soren's, tentatively he reached out and rubbed his friends shaking shoulder hoping that the gesture would give him a small amount of comfort. Soren gave him a weak smile, one of his hands taking hold of Yami's as he continued to stare at the radio in shock.

Shaking his head Soren stammered, "We saved him, only for that prick to find him anyway. Sometimes I wonder why the hell I chose this job."

"You're not alone," whispered Yami sitting back in his seat he turned the radio volume down.

'_Dispatch to Ambulance 19,_' chimed the voice of one of the dispatchers over the radio.

Yami scrambled for the mouthpiece, finally finding it he fumbled to get a hold of it then viciously clicked the button, hiding the intense racing of his heart from the suddenness of the call, "Ambulance 19 to Dispatch, go ahead."

'_I have an MVC down at sixteenth and Deerfoot, four vehicles, the guys there are asking for back-up and you're the closet, over'_

"Roger, we're on our way, over and out."

Both of them scrambled to fasten their seatbelts, Yami shoved the vehicle into gear while Soren switched on the lights and sirens. They shared a quick glance; their minds clearly holding the same thought before Yami slammed on the gas pedal and sped off to the crash sight. It was back to work, back to their regime, and back to being dejected from what they saw until it was all over at the end of their shift.

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Their hands in latex gloves and a smear of Vaseline below their noses, Bakura and Grey meandered through the crowd of nurses, doctors, and the few mobile patients in the area with a morbid obsession for violence. Finally shoving through they entered the taped off and curtain blocked scene, both cringing at the familiar sight before them, yet through its familiarity it never stopped their stomachs from churning at the grotesque injuries.

Holding back the intense urge to lose his supper Bakura strode over to the two police officers and the doctor standing near the body, allowing his eyes to fully absorb the image before him as he went. The wound that had been meticulously repaired last night in surgery was hastily ripped open, all the stitches severed and on scattered around the room. There was a blank bloody void where the heart once was, a trail of dark bloody along the floor indicating the path the killer took as he escaped from his finished work. Shuddering Bakura averted his attention to the officers and doctor, Grey at his side.

"What can you tell us before they send him off to the ME's office?"

The doctor, eyes dilated in fright and pale as a ghost, moved to the bedside, lifting up the sheets which had been covering the man's stomach, "There's the symbol, but I am afraid that it's different than the one that keeps being mentioned in the newspapers, and the one that we had found on him last night has been scratched out."

Bakura and Grey both glared at him in bewilderment till the symbol was revealed and caught their attention, snapping towards it they both held back twin gasps, horror crossing their features as the doctor voiced their already deciphered conclusion, "It's the Paramedics symbol."

Covering his mouth Grey stepped back, forcefully turning his attention away he questioned the two officers, "Did you take the pictures of the scene already?"

"Yes sir."

"This as well," Bakura pressed, the two officers nodded. "Good, get the pictures to our office as soon as you can, and get this poor man to the ME's office before he becomes the hospital freak show."

"Yes sir."

"Will do detective."

Wrenching off his gloves Bakura stormed through the crowd of people, Grey scrambling behind him trying to keep pace. Tossing the gloves in the nearest trashcan he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, quickly dialling in a number and leaning against the wall, waiting as it continued to ring.

"Who are you calling," Grey questioned as he finally caught up with him.

Bakura quickly glanced at him, "The Chief, he told us that if we found anything to contact him. This is definitely something, and this something is definitely a hint at just how pissed off that prick currently is at the two hero's of last night."

Allowing it all to register Grey shuddered in disgust and dismay, his eyes watching the pieces of Bakura's words fall into place. The symbol before had been the caduceus, hence the reason why they had named the man thus, but now it was the paramedics symbol etched in beside the scratched out caduceus symbol that had been there last night. Yami and Soren had interjected in his plans and probably incredibly deflated his ego, the new symbol was a lash out at those two, possibly a warning. He was snapped out of his thoughts at Bakura's voice sliced through his fog.

"Hello chief, its Detective Bakura, I have some news on the case, and you're not going to like it."

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Snapping off blood drenched gloves Yami chucked them in the biohazard bin in the back of the ambulance, grabbing several sterile wet clothes he moved to sit beside Soren by the open doors of the rig. Dropping down he handed half of the clothes to Soren and went about using the rest of them on himself to try and rub off some of the blood. They were both silent while they waited for one of the nurses to bring them out their warmed coffees and give them an update on the young girl they had brought in half an hour ago from the car accident they had been called to. They were parked in the back of the Foothills hospital, still in the emergency drop off area but out of the way enough that any other emergency vehicles that came would still be able to get to the doors. The other four ambulances that had been with them on the crash site were also parked by them, all of the other EMT's meandering towards them, all whipping off the blood from their own arms and faces.

It had been a tough and messy call. Four vehicles, one of them a large pick-up, one a van, and the other two cheap old cars. The two cars were completely totalled, the drivers of both pronounced dead on arrival. In the truck was a young couple, both in critical condition. While in the van was a family of three, the little girls seatbelt had broken on impact and she had been wedged on the floor between her seat and the drivers, her two parents were injured but in stable condition. It had taken an hour to get the ten-year-old girl out, and by the time they had she was in full-blown cardiac arrest from shock and blood loss. Yami and Soren were assigned to her seeing as they were the last ones to arrive on scene.

To say that it was torture to endure would be an understatement. Yami, being the smaller of the two, had to climb into the van and keep the girl as stable as he could through the wreckage till they could safely pull her out after the firefighters hacked the doors open. She had been awake to start, screaming for her parents and sheer agony, till she had finally succumbed to her injuries.

Sighing Yami rubbed his now clean face with his hands and looked up at the EMT's walking over to him and Soren, giving them a weak smile, "Hell of a way to start the shift huh."

"You're telling me," one grumbled, a classmate of theirs from SAIT, Eric Sanders. "Why is it that they give all the really hard calls to the rookies first."

Soren shrugged, "Who knows, probably to torture us."

"Give us a reality check on how hard this is job is going to be for the rest of our lives more like it," said Alex, Eric's partner. "The four EMT-P's over there say that this is going to be the normal pattern for the rest of winter. Tons of car accidents, hypothermia incidences, suicides and drug overdoses."

"Peachy," said Eric sarcastically, eyes catching sight of a single nurse leaving the building holding a tray with four large mugs of steaming coffee. "Oh hallelujah, our coffee is being returned."

With sudden speed Soren leapt from the back of the rig and dashed towards the nurse, fervently thanking her through her knowing laughter and taking his own mug and cradled it as he ran back to sit beside Yami. She walked up to them, her soft laughter a small bright thing for the four EMT's, "Eric, you ruined my fun, I was going to see if he really could smell it as well as he claims."

"Eh, we're all too covered in rubbing alcohol to smell anything," Eric stated with a laugh, gratefully taking his mug of coffee from her tray, absently watching Alex take his own.

Handing Yami his mug the nurse took in the looks of hope on the two young men's faces, she gave them a small comforting smile, "She made it through surgery, and the doctor says she has a high chance of making it." She resisted the urge to laugh as the two sighed dramatically, an obvious weight lifted off their shoulders.

"Finally, some goods news," Soren murmured, returning to gulping down his coffee.

"Good," said the nurse, shoving the tray under her arm and turning back to the hospital. "I had better head back in, have to start doing my rounds."

"Thanks again," all four chimed in, holding up their mugs.

She smiled again and began walking back to the doors, "Any time boys."

Sipping on his coffee Yami absently watched her enter the emergency ward in the hospital, his heart now beating normally after the consoling news she had given them. Relaxing back against the rig he let his eyes wander the front entrance, through the windows he could see nurses standing around the admission desk talking casually, and the odd person entering through the doors. The soft murmur of his friends talking the only sound he could ear above the cold wind whipping around them. Then, something caught him from the corner of his vision. Turning he narrowed his eyes in a mixture of shock and unease. A man with sunglasses, hat and a long black coat stood by one of the pillars outside of the hospital entrance. Peering closer he gulped harshly in recognition, it was the same man from the café. Gripping Soren's shoulder he fervently whispered, "Soren, look at that guy by the entrance, look familiar."

Giving Yami a strange look Soren did as asked, instantly scowling, "Yeah, the guy from the café earlier. What the hell, is he following us or something?!"

"What guy," Alex asked, following the two EMT's gaze and locking on the said man. "Jeez, talk about creepy. You guy's saw him earlier?"

Yami nodded, "At that café downtown before we got the call for the accident."

"That's even creepier," Eric said. "It's probably just a coincidence."

Unsure Yami stood up and climbed into the back of the rig heading for the drivers seat, "I hope so, come on Soren we had better get back on patrol."

"Yeah," Soren said slowly, instantly following Yami. "Hey, are we still up for drinks and pool tomorrow night?"

"Yep, see you guys tomorrow."

Just as Soren closed the back doors to the rig Yami heard his cell phone blare loudly, reaching into his pocket he pulled it out and flipped it open, "Hello."

"_Hey kiddo."_

Sighing Yami glanced back as Soren came to sit in the passenger seat, "Hi Dad, I was going to call you a little later, is everything alright."

"_Yeah, everything's fine, just fine, how are you surviving so far."_

"Barely," Yami murmured honestly, giving Soren a small shrug in answer to his friend's questioning look. "Hard first call, and tired, we both are."

"_I can imagine why. Listen, come tell me when you get home alright."_

Laughing quietly Yami shook his head, "You worry far too much Dad, besides, you'll probably stay up until I get there anyway."

"_Yeah yeah, I'm allowed to worry, it's my duty as a Father. I'm not joking though, even if I am asleep come tell me that you got home alright so I can make sure you take one of those sleeping pills. You need to sleep for once."_

Not surprised Yami shoved the keys in the ignition and switched the vehicle on, "Alright Dad, I'll call you later when my shifts done if I need a ride."

"_Alright, take care of yourself."_

"Bye Dad," shutting off his phone he put it back in his pocket, not able to resist laughing at the incredulous look on Soren's face. "Let's get going."

"Sounds good to me, hopefully we can avoid this place for the rest of the night."

"I highly doubt that," Yami stated a smile still on his face as he drove out of the emergency parking lot and off to finish the rest of their shift.

**A/N**: _Alright, again, I hope this was good. I am putting this one up now because I know its going to take a while to write the next chapter, gunna be busy for the next little while and chapt. 3 is going to be long. Otherwise I am planning on submitting a chapter after the next one is finished …So… review…plz? Lol _


	3. Chapter 3

SILHOUETTE

_**A/N:**__ Sorry again that this one has taken so long for me to get up. I am already going to warn all of you that there will be no consistency in the amount of time between updates, too busy and erratic of a schedule right now to guarantee anything. And as for why it took so long this time, I had to write my certification exam for my EMR at the end of March, so I was a lot more concerned with studying for it considering it cost me nearly seven hundred dollars, never mind how much I had to spend for the weekend stay in Edmonton. Anyway, enough complaining, here's the chapter, hope its good…its really long too…for me at least… ^^ and thanks to those that have been reading and reviewing, it's much appreciated. (And… sorry for how many stupid type-o's I made in the last…and probably the first…chapter) _

**CHAPTER THREE**

Inattentively Yami stroked Reno's head, eyes focused on the clock waiting for it to beep to signal that he needed to get out of bed. Sighing deeply he shot a glance towards the door, his father's somnolent shadow meandered past casting beneath it as the man walked to the bathroom. It had been a late night for both of them. His shift ended up running two hours later than expected after being called to a rather violent domestic call in the last thirty minutes of his shift, resulting in Garret hitching a ride downtown with a friend and driving him back home in his car. They had briefly argued about the sleeping pill issue till finally Garret used his overwhelming strength and actually did force him to take the accursed pill.

It was times like that that he hated being significantly smaller than his father. Garret easily over powered him, pinned his arms to his sides without any effort, forced him to his knees and after much more arguing pried his mouth apart and shoved the pill in before he could stop him. Though, throughout the entire thing Reno had Garret by the pant leg, and to his satisfaction had wrecked said pair of pants. That was half the reason why Garret rarely used physical force against Yami or even wrestled with him, Reno was extremely protective of him and being police trained he caused some damage every time, and Garret was sick of constantly replacing his damaged clothes.

The loud annoying beeping of his alarm clock broke him out of his thoughts. Groaning he stiffly rolled over, cringing at the constant popping in his back and the intense pain shooting through his body, and slammed his hand down on the beeping clock. Sighing he shoved his head into his pillow, breathing with difficulty through the waves of pain that moving had caused. He had over done it last night, with every new call came the new surge of adrenaline that washed away the agony of his injuries and shoved him into total tunnel vision, focusing completely on the patient he could not feel the muscles in his chest and back stretching, the cracking his wrist was doing and the intense pounding of his head from all the noise and movement further aggravating his injuries.

He could tell that his father was worried. Even through the fog of the sleeping pill he could hear Garret come and check on him every other hour, something he had finally stopped doing six months ago. For months after his mother passed away Garret checked on him constantly, even going to the lengths sometimes of sitting on his bed and placing a hand on his chest to make sure he was breathing, much like he did a few times last night. Yami was not much less guilty, he had done the same thing for months, and he still did every time the nightmares would plague him.

Chasing the painful memories out of his head he slowly rolled over and inched his way into a sitting position, cringing harshly against the pain. As soon as he was upright a violent coughing fit hit him, hunching forward he instinctively crossed his arms over his chest, the position allowing him to reduce the agony and increase his ability to breathe. He mentally cursed when his father's rushing foot steps reached his ears along with his door being slammed open, he was only able to blearily catch a glimpse of Garret through his coughing before the man was instantly beside him carefully rubbing his back and forcefully placing one of his own hands over his mouth.

It had been several long minutes once he finally stopped; his breath was coming in short loud wheezes, his racing vision making him remain leaning against Garret's burly chest, all the pain he had been feeling before was now far worse causing his body to shiver violently against it.

"Here," Garret murmured softly, handing him his puffer from the bedside table. "Open up, I'll help you take it." Seeing Yami do so as best he could, Garret placed the inhaler in his mouth and squeezed it down, watching as Yami breathed in carefully to receive the medication.

"You over did it last night didn't you?"

Reluctantly Yami nodded in response seeing as his voice was still unable to work through his harsh breathing; taking a glass of water from the nightstand he slowly drank it, holding back a groan of gratitude that the cool water brought his burning throat and sternum. "Hard not to," he rasped out. "It was a busy night."

"Did you get to relax at all aside from the time I called you?"

"No," Yami murmured, placing the glass back on the nightstand and reaching back to pet Reno's head, stopping the dogs subtle whining. "Like I said, it was busy."

"Maybe you should take tonight off, you haven't taken a single night off since you started," Garret suggested, eyes and ears monitoring Yami's still slowly recovering breathing.

Shaking his head slowly Yami pulled the covers off of him and brought his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms round his knees, "Can't."

Sighing Garret swivelled so that he was sitting in front of his son, hands moving to rest on the young man's shoulders, his gaze ghosting over his son's face, "Yami, you need to take a break sometime, you're not superman. No ones expecting you to be perfect or be on overdrive all the time, especially not her." He swallowed hard, watching Yami squeeze his eyes shut and rest his head against his knees blocking his face. Cursing quietly Garret shifted forward and tightly wrapped his arms around his son. He knew Yami well, no matter how good he could hide things from everyone else, he could not hold back a single thing from him. "I'll keep saying this until you understand it kiddo, you did everything you could for her, she was long gone before you got there. She would never want to see you torturing yourself like you are now."

He was taken aback when Yami shoved away from him, clambering out of bed and pulling on a housecoat with great difficulty. Scowling Garret rose to his feet, rapidly cutting Yami off from leaving the room, ignoring the burning glare his son sent his way, "Yami listen to me."

"I need to get ready for work," Yami snapped, sharply tying the rope on his housecoat.

Snarling Garret crossed his arms over his chest, eyes darkening in frustration, "Drop your stubbornness Yami! You need to let your body heal, it won't do that when you refuse to rest and recuperate when you go recklessly around trying to make up for your own self implied failure."

"Move!" Yami ground out, his fists clenching at his side, temper flaring.

"Don't destroy yourself trying to make amends to something you had no control over!" Garret yelled, his own temper rising at Yami's increased obduracy. "There was nothing you could have done Yami, she was gone! You can't kill yourself trying to save everyone else just because you can't accept that you did all you could for her!"

"Don't you dare try and tell me what I could and could not have done! You weren't there, you have no damn idea what it was like. I could have done something!"

Growling Garret took slow deliberate steps towards Yami, not surprised when the young man barely flinched or showed any discomfort, "You were afraid Yami! Your mind was in so much shock from what you saw that you shut down, it's a normal reaction. You already knew there was nothing you could do, you just couldn't except it through your shock and fear!"

"Stop trying to pull your shrink talk with me," Yami snapped, body tensing in anger as his father continued to advance towards him. "You know nothing!"

"It's hard for me to know anything when you're so closed off about it Yami. I cant help you, I cant even fully fathom what you went through because you won't open up to me, you won't give me the slightest hint as to what happened or how it made you feel," Garret yelled, completely exasperated, burly hands tightly taking hold of Yami's elbows and squeezing to the point of bruising. "Let go of the blame you've placed on yourself, let me help you!"

"I don't need any help," Yami retorted, loosely struggling against the strong hold Garret had on his arms. "Let go of me!"

"Stop bottling everything up," Garret growled, his voice suddenly low, his temper barely under his control now. Unconsciously he clenched his hands more vigorously around Yami's arms, not noticing the pained wince or the small flicker of fear in those crimson eyes. "You need to stop worrying about everyone else and take care of yourself. Talk to me Yami, let me help you for once. You concentrated so much on me when she died that you never let yourself grieve. If you continue to blame yourself for what happened to her and rampage around trying to save everyone else you'll drown in your emotions. I've already lost your mother; I won't lose you to your own self-loathing and bottled emotions. I won't!"

He could feel Yami trembling in his hold, along with the return of the young man's harsh wheezing. Snapping out of his frustrated haze he peered down in guilt and worry at his son, berating himself for losing even an ounce of control over his temper. Yami was staring cautiously up at him, his ruby orbs portraying all the hidden emotions that he was desperately trying to hide, his body trembling subtly and his breathing laboured again. Hesitantly stepping back Garret released his grip on Yami's arms and simply stared at him, leaning back against the door to ensure that Yami could not run like he usually did.

Yami stumbled back, images instantly beginning to filter into his vision, memories that plagued him and tore apart his sanity every moment that they returned dominating his thoughts. He tried to hold back a sob, his hand covering his mouth against the sound, his eyes finally focusing back on Garret. He didn't want this, did not want Garret to see him this way, but no matter how hard he willed himself to straighten up and shove it all aside, he couldn't. Closing his eyes he hunched over, hands clenching the sheets beside him, desperately trying to shut down the rush of vivid memories. He stiffened instinctively when Garret sat down beside him, one burly hand resting on his shoulder and the other gently rubbing his back, the soothing action forcing his vocal cords to work. "I don't want you to know, don't want you to remember her for how she looked in the end, how she felt. I don't want you to carry that image, or to carry my issues, you have enough to deal with without that burden."

"You are my burden Yami," Garret murmured, lifting his one hand and using it to tilt and turn Yami's face towards him, making sure that his son kept his eyes on him. "Remember Yami, you are my only child, and all that I have left of any value in my life. I can't stand back anymore and watch you waste away because you refuse to heal."

"Dad…" Yami started, nearly faltering at the determined glare Garret gave him. "I don't exactly know how to talk about this. It's hard to verbalize something you cannot describe."

Grinning wryly Garret stared incredulously at Yami, his thumb gently caressing the young man's smooth cheek, "I'm not expecting you to be able to. What I am expecting is that if you need to vent, need to talk or need to cry, that you will come to me. I know I've never exactly been the best emotional supporter, that was your mother's department, I'm not for all the mushy gushy shit." He paused to listen to Yami's soft chuckle and small smile at the comment, glad to bring him out of his darken stupor. "But, I will always be here for you, alright."

Nodding slowly Yami reached up and pulled his father's hand from his face, giving a small squeeze in reassurance, "I know Dad. But, knowing how we both are, our heads will have to collide like this a few more times before anything productive happens."

"Heh, head colliding," Garret grunted, reaching out he pulled Yami into a gentle headlock and ruffled his hair as non-aggressively as he could. "More like making your stubborn head explode with a hard slap upside the head with what you already know and won't except."

"Ow! Dad, for crying out loud!" Yami yelped, pleased when Garret issued the same noise after Reno nipped the arm around his neck sharply. Giving his father a halfhearted glare through his slowly correcting vision he stood up stiffly and stretched, wincing at the popping sounds from his joints and the agony the action caused. "I'll go call in, Bruce told Soren and I both to take the week off already after what happened, he will probably be thrilled that I am listening to him for once."

Shaking his head, a smile plastered on his face, Garret followed Yami out of his bedroom turning to the bathroom while watching his son slowly begin to descend the stairs. "Old Brucie will be marking it down on the calendar in bold red print."

Swivelling around Yami shot Garret another glare, "Much like the day the you finally got into an ambulance without having to be sedated and restrained."

Expression dropping Garret huffed and walked into the bathroom, calling out briskly before closing the door to shower, "There was only one time I willingly got into an ambulance, it was the day you and Soren got mugged. They day you are thinking about, I was so inebriated that when he said lights and sirens and plopped the image of your mother naked into my head I was all for it."

Dramatically clapping his hand over his eyes Yami shook his head against the image, "I did not need to hear that!"

"Haha, serves you right!" Garret yelled over the sound of rushing water.

"Asshole!"

"Spiky head!"

Blinking Yami stared incredulously at the bathroom door, "What kind of lame insult is that!"

"Fine…Spiky haired stubborn jack ass!"

"Better."

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A lone shadow tapped impatiently on the small surgical case in his trench coat pocket, his toque and sunglass even further masking his identity from the world, the darkness engulfing his already doing so. He supposed he looked much like Jack the Ripper at the moment, a predator lurking in an opaque alley casually leaning against a wall, watching for his next victim. His surgical case would fit the famed killer as well, several small flawlessly designed scalpels and other instruments perfect for dissecting a human. He held back a smile at his own perfection, he was currently a mirror image of his idol, except his death toll was already higher then the confirmed number of victims the Ripper took.

Boisterous babbling sliced him back, recoiling he stared down the alley catching sight of five thugs slowly meandering their way towards him. All of them with the typical thugs; baggy clothing, improper use of the English language, profuse swearing and an over cocky demeanour. Snarling he pushed himself away from the wall, absently glancing down at his watch, they were late. Shoving his temper down within himself he knelt down and picked up a rather heavy bag, ignoring its weight he straightened himself and faced the ingrates.

"I hope you have the money, old man. Better not be wasting my time" chuckled one, seemingly the leader, a smug grin clear on his face even in the darkness.

"You said drugs or money," the man scoffed, chucking the bag with hard precision and knocking the wind out of one of the thugs. "Ten thousand, cash. Now, I am trusting that you will not stray an inch from my rules. Kill the father and badly wound the son. I want the boy alive for my own purposes. I will know if you break these rules and I will find you, and you will regret crossing me."

"Yeah yeah, we got ya," the leader chuckled again, unzipping the bag and shoving his hand through the neatly stacked wads of bills. "Don't worry your creepy little head over it. We know what we are doing."

"For your sake, I hope so."

"Chill man, we got it. Besides, our beef is with the chief, not the kid. You can have the little bitch when we are done."

Grunting he reached into his trench coat pocket and pulled out a sheet of paper, watching the wretch rip it from between his fingers with little grace or politeness. "Here's the address. The boy will be home alone when you arrive, he did not go to work, and the father won't be home till after midnight."

"Alrighty," the leader said, cheekily saluting him. "Pleasure doing business with you."

He shook his head, eyes watching through his sunglasses as the five thugs vanished rather noisily from the alley. A malicious smirk crossed his features, now all he had to do was finish what he started, than the real fun could start.

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"Honestly, why can't this job just be easy, the prick blatantly obvious and easy to find. Not gala banding happily around in a suspect pool of forty! Never mind the fact that none of these may be him!" Bakura bellowed, hand clenching till the knuckles became white, dark eyes glaring down at the forty files laying on the table. "If we don't find him soon he'll kill again!"

Sitting back in his chair Grey watched Bakura with caution, fully aware of his partners hot temper, "One of these guys is him, we just have to start narrowing it down."

"And where are we going to get the time to shorten that rather daunting list," Bakura growled, body shaking in an attempt to quell his anger. "We don't have time to shorten the list of suspects. The next victim will probably be dead long before we figure it out, who knows, maybe all the surgeons in Calgary will be dead before we figure it out. We have nothing on this guy! No finger prints, no DNA, no real slip ups, nothing! His only fuck up hes clearly not looking at as one of his own failures but as the fault of Yami and Soren. If those two get harmed for doing the right thing, I'll kill the bastard myself the instant we find him!"

Blinking Grey slowly inched out of his seat, taking slow deliberate steps towards Bakura's fuming figure, "Calm down Kura', we'll figure this out, he'll slip up and leave something for us to trace him back to, he has to." Finally reaching his partner Grey loosely gripped Bakura's shoulders and peered intently at him. "We'll get him, don't worry."

"I am worried Grey!" Bakura snapped, shoving Grey's hands from his shoulders and spinning on his heel to start vehemently pacing the room. "He's pissed off. Yami and Soren obviously played with his over inflated ego and now he wants to finish whatever spree this is that he started so he can get to them. He's gotten bold, killing in open public…a hospital to be precise. He's going to speed up, I can tell, and as soon as he is done whatever list it is that he has he's going to move on to those two."

"Do you think the motive has changed? Our theory?"

"No…no, it's right. The sixth victim, Alexander Ross, said to us that the Caduceus killer was talking about revenge over his son. The killer takes out the victim's hearts. Connect the dots and boom, the kid must have died from something heart related, a surgery or condition or something. It all makes sense. But, what I am thinking is that Yami and Soren screwed with his ego, he perfection complex, and it pissed him off. That said, and with the symbol change, I think he's laughing at us, telling us that he's going to finish his work and then have fun with our two hero EMT's," Bakura expounded, stopping abruptly in his pacing and staring across the office at Grey. "I seriously think this guy is a self-proclaimed and practiced perfectionist. He's never left a single thing for us to find in terms of DNA or fingerprints, aside from his one mistake he has never left the scene tainted, making sure it was completely clear of any trace that he was there. He always cleaned everything around the body with bleach and acid, masking any thing he might have accidentally dropped along with even shoe prints he may have left. And, his slip up was somewhere unsanitary. Generally he has done it in the patients home or building of practice after hours, this time it was an empty partially built hotel. In all the other places he had access to cleaning supplies, medical instruments and all sorts of personal protective equipment. It was a test, the hotel, to see if he could be just as perfect out of his element, away from all the conveniences of a home or medical building. He failed, and only because of Yami and Soren, he is still convinced that he is the perfect killer. His way of proving it was finishing the other victim off in broad daylight and still leaving absolutely no trace of himself."

Nodding in apprehension and agreement Grey sat back in one of the chairs, "Definitely. Maybe that little trait, his need to be a perfectionist, can help us narrow this list. His profession probably reflects his need to be perfect at all times, along with how well he did in high school and college."

"So," Bakura stared, rapidly striding over to the table and opening the first file in reach. "Take out those that never went to college or didn't finish high school. Along with those that have a less than stellar job."

Both went silent, spending the next hour rifling through the extensive folders on the table. The odd noise could be heard over the sound of officers talking outside of their closed office, one of them clearing their throat, growling in disapproval or giving a satisfied grunt. Nearly three hours later the two of them pulled away from the long files and stared at each other before glancing at the discard pile. Both of their hearts sank and Bakura's temper instantly began to fester again. Seven gone from the list of forty suspects.

Sighing deeply Grey ran his hands through his hair, "Well, that was effective."

Heatedly pulling his long white hair into a ponytail Bakura leaned against a wall, covering his face with his hands he sank into a sitting position on the filthy carpet, "Dammit!"

Staring across at Bakura sympathetically Grey slowly evened out the piles of the remaining suspects, "Well, it's a start, I guess. Down seven at least, its better than none."

"But it's not good enough," Bakura groaned, uncovering his face he shooting a pointed glance at his partner, his expression dejected. "We have less than a week, maybe less than a day, to find this guy before he kills again. Every kill he does, adds to the blood on our hands for not finding him and getting justice for the innocent lives he took."

Scratching his head Grey bit his lip, retracting his gaze from Bakura's dark russet stare, "That's the problem Bakura, we aren't really dealing justice. The bastard will be sentenced to life, put in a prison where he can do virtually anything he wants, and have the chance of being let out after half his sentence if he behaves well. How's that justice?"

"It's better than him being out and about killing more people!" Bakura said vociferously, slamming his hand on the floor. "You know exactly how I feel about the justice system. Killers should die in the worst way possible, rapists should have the same thing done to them over and over again, those that steal or commit fraud should be beaten and thrown in a cell with no extra luxuries, and drunken bastards that beat their wives and children should be mauled and killed. But the world doesn't work like that no matter how badly I or anyone else want it to."

Sitting back Grey stared at the table, "What did the chief say when you went to see him? I missed it all, the forensics guy wouldn't shut up."

Heaving a cleansing breath Bakura rested his head against the wall, "He's not happy about it that's for sure. You can tell he's worried, Yami has obviously been his world since Tawni passed away last Christmas."

"He has been," Grey murmured. "Yami is all he's got left. He's got no other family that I know of, and if he does, he's not in contact with them."

Glancing at his watch Bakura cursed and rapidly stood up moving to gather his stuff, "I was supposed to go check in with him by now. Come on, lets go tell him what little more we know."'

Unwillingly Grey did the same and gathered his things silently trudging behind Bakura as the two of them headed to the downstairs parking lot. They were in their downtown office, while the Chief was stationed out in seven district closer to his home. It was going to be at least a half hour drive to the district office, a drive neither of them was looking forward to.

They were silent, much like they had been earlier, as they clambered into their car and drove off through the mostly quite streets of Calgary. Bakura was driving, paying just enough attention to the rode to know where he was going and what the other vehicles were doing, but the rest of his mind was running through all the information that they had on the murders. Grey was much the same, his focus seemed to be on the passing buildings, parks, and vehicles, but in reality he was searching and racking his memory on the case trying to find any holes they may have missed. In both of their tired states neither of them found anything, sheer disappointment and heavy silence weighed them down as they drove into the secure parking lot, stopped the car and entered the building, neither noticing a dark skinned man barrelling out one of the other doors.

Waving unenthusiastic hellos to several officers Bakura and Grey staggered up the stairs to the third floor of the building, both silently cursing who ever invented stairs and made their way to the chief's office. Upon reaching it both of them stared in shock at the empty office and a rather bemused police officer standing in the office staring at the computer screen. Interest peeked Bakura and Grey entered the room, startling the officer.

"Jeez, detectives, you startled me," the young officer stammered, scrambling away from behind the desk. Seeing the pointed looks he was receiving the officer shakily replied. "I got an alert from one of the alarm companies that there was a possible break and enter bout ten minutes ago, the basement motion sensors set off a silent house alarm, and it was shut off just before the company called to see if everything was alright. But, the address looked familiar so I came and told the chief. He bolted out of the room as soon as I told him, it was maybe five minutes ago, you just missed him."

Narrowing his eyes Bakura questioned, "What was the address?"

"Um," the office stuttered glancing back at the computer. "519 Citadel Drive, its bout fifteen minutes from here."

Racking his brain Bakura tried to pinpoint where that address was familiar, then it clicked, "Shit, it's the chief's house!"

Eyes widening Grey stumbled back, thinking fast he pointed at the officer, "Try and get a hold of the chief, and call his house and see if there's an answer, now!"

"Yes sir!" the young officer stuttered, scrambling to grab the nearby phone and called the chiefs pager first. Sweating profusely he glanced between the two detectives as the pager continued to ring until the line went dead. Seeing Bakura's scowl deepen he rapidly called the house number, again nothing. "I'm sorry sirs, I can't get an answer."

Cursing colourfully Bakura pulled Grey back into the hallway, "Come on, we have to get to that house, something's wrong!"

Barely keeping step with Bakura, Grey sprinted down the stairs and back out into the parking lot. Dashing to their car they jumped in slammed the doors and sped off back out onto the main road heading in the direction of the Chief's house.

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Needless to say their plans had changed. Going out to a bar was out of the question, Yami had far too many prescription strength painkillers in his system to drink, Soren was still recovering from the effects of the sleeping pill his fiancé had given him, while Alex and Eric were exhausted enough after their shift and had every intention of being able to drive themselves home afterward. Thus, Yami's basement had become the alternative night out. With water and pool sticks in hand they played several long games of pool, the only reason they were long being that they were too busy laughing at each other for being too tired to actually hit any of the balls, thus taking up more time than actually missing them.

Well after eleven Alex and Eric both said their good nights, waving good-bye and somnolently stumbling out of the house with Yami and Soren both watching to make sure they actually made it to their vehicles. The moment Yami closed the front door Soren plopped down in the plush sectional, a small moan of appreciation passing his lips from the sheer comfort the extremely soft couch brought, "I am so glad we both took the night off. I would not have lasted the shift, then again, Abby's sleeping pills really wouldn't have helped."

Chuckling Soren laughed, peering upside down over the back of the couch, watching Yami putter around in the kitchen. "What did it take for him to make you call in, short of doing it himself."

Yami peered across at him and grunted, averting his attention back to pouring the tea, "A good remind as to how much pain I am actually in, and a hard smack across the head reminding me that I am not a superhero."

Soren grinned, forcing himself to stand back up and head to the door, "Bout time someone did, besides me." Chuckling at the soft glare Yami sent him Soren pulled on his shoes and jacket, eyes never leaving Yami whom had crossed from the kitchen to the door, steaming cup of tea in his hand. "I'm glad though bud, you were on over drive and have been for months; unfortunately it took a brawl with a serial killer to knock some sense into your head."

Shaking his head Yami grinned and playfully punched Soren's shoulder, "Go home you, before Abby calls the house demanding what awful things I have done to you to keep you from her."

Zipping up his jacket Soren sighed, taking in his best friend's battered image, "Take care of yourself bud, alright. I'm just down the street if you need anything, remember that."

Yami smiled kindly at him, allowing Soren to embrace him tightly, "I know, I'll talk to you tomorrow alright, thanks for coming."

Stepping away Soren opened the door, striding out into the cool night air he glanced back at Yami, a cheeky smile brightened by the streetlights, "Later bud."

Quietly Yami waited until Soren was several houses away before he closed the door, only to go and open the back one to allow Reno back into the warmth of the house. Injuries pounding in protest he promptly shoved the dishes in the dishwasher, closed the basement door and went to grab the vacuum cleaner. He needed to do a quickly tidy before Garret got home from work. It wasn't that the house was messy, it never truly was, but he wanted to have it out of the way so he could relax fully tomorrow on his official day off.

It did not take him long to have the main floor completely clean. With great difficulty he carried the normally fairly light vacuum up the stairs and began to go about cleaning the upstairs. Picking up clothes as he went and chucking them in the nearby hamper he slowly made progress in finally seeing the entire floor of his father's bedroom. The man had been hasty the last few days apparently, merely tossing his clothes into his room with the mental note to put them in the hamper later, only to be distracted by other more pressing matters.

Outside five figures climbed over the backyard fence and into the yard beyond it, they remained still at first confirming that the dog was not outside before dashing to one of the basement windows. They could hear the whir of a vacuum cleaner, and judging by how fait it was the user was probably on the top floor. Pleased they set down the heavy containers of kerosene that they had been carrying on the ground, one of them revealing the pipe he had been carrying and smashed at the basement window, shattering the glass and giving them the entrance that they needed without alerting the obviously distracted occupant of the house.

Over the whine of the vacuum the sharp sound of glass breaking snatched Reno's over sensitive attention. The foreign sound forced him to leave his masters side and down the stairs, nose and ears working on over drive to catch an unfamiliar sent and sound. It didn't take long, whispers and subtle banging could be heard beyond the basement door. Letting out a low growl he pawed at the closed door handle, when it wouldn't budge he began to frantically bark desperately trying to gain his masters attention.

Reno boisterously barking broke through the intense roar of the vacuum cleaner and Yami rummaging around upstairs. Shutting off the vacuum Yami stepped out of the room and peered down at the main floor, spotting Reno viciously barking at the basement door he glared, "Reno, enough, there's no reason to bark." The dog peered up at him, a loud whine emitting from him and he dramatically sat down looking between him and the basement door. Scowling Yami snapped his fingers and pointed at his side, commanding the dog to come to him. Without question Reno did as bided, but clearly reluctant as he constantly let out small whines and looked back at the door. Once the dog reached him Yami knelt down and gently stroked his head, trying to soothe him. "There's no one here but us Reno, calm down."

But the dog refused to, he was shifting his front paws impatiently, his whine deep and insistent. Furrowing his brow Yami glanced down at the basement door cautiously. Reno was far too well trained to simply bark at nothing, Garret had been forceful when it came to only getting retired police dogs, and with how antsy he was being something had to be wrong. Shushing the dog into silence Yami strained to hear any unusual sounds in the house, flinching when the familiar sound of footsteps on the basement stairs echoed in his ears along with whispered voices.

Holding back the urge to panic he tightly gripped Reno's collar, pulling the dog back with him into the darkness of the upstairs landing close to the bathroom door shutting off all the upstairs lights as he went. He could still see the basement door from that angle, his eyes completely trained on while his hand reached back to the bathroom counter to fumble for the phone he remembered placing there earlier. His heart was pounding wildly in his chest, his mind screaming at him in reminder that his current injuries would put him at an intense disadvantage in a fight. Keeping his breathing in check he concentrated on reaching the phone, Garret was less than a fifteen minute drive from where he was, especially if he was speeding. He could not handle an altercation at the moment, and he knew it.

As soon as his hand fumbled over the cold plastic the basement door slammed open, five darkly dressed and clearly armed men sprang out into the main floor. Frantically Yami pressed in Garret's cell phone number, keeping a tight and commanding hold on Reno's collar, the dog remaining silent as he was trained to do.

"Where the hell is the kid? The guy said he would be home, what happened to all the lights," whispered one of the men harshly.

"He's here somewhere, don't worry, he heard the vacuum and saw the lights," said another. "He probably heard us and is hiding."

Hitting the call button on the phone Yami set it down and focused his attention on his attackers; he had to hold them off until he father received the call and arrived with back-up. Heaving a cleansing breath he yelled out gaining the attention of his would be assailants, "Not hiding, waiting, Reno attack!"

All five men glanced up him only to cry out in dismay as Yami released Reno's collar, the dog launched down the stairs and lunged at the first man in range, sharp canines digging deeply into the soft flesh of the man's forearm. Screaming the man fell to his knees fervently trying to beat the dogs head in the hopes that it would let go, it never did, instead it pulled him viciously towards the basement stairs, ripping flesh and growling at him the teeth leaving his arm the instant he tumbled down the stairs to the concrete floor. His neck snapped when his head connected with the concrete, the sickening sound echoing in the stair well only to be covered by Reno's protesting barks when he was shoved into the stairwell and the door was slammed shut.

Standing up Yami watched in dismay as Reno was caught by surprise and shoved into the basement stairwell, the attackers slamming the door and locking it before their angered gazes turn back to him. Gulping he took a step down the stairs, arms out in the ready position, one down four more to go. Hopefully his energy lasted long enough, and with his position on the stairs only one could really attack him at a time.

"You prick, you'll pay for that dirty trick!" roared one of the thugs, a shaky finger pointing up at him. "Bring him down here!"

Clenching his fists and flexing his arms Yami easily manoeuvred out of the first attack, the man barrelled at him in a blind rage dagger drawn and eyes wild. Dropping down on one knee he snapped his elbow up, the bent limb roughly slamming into the man's sternum, knocking the wind out of his lung and completely incapacitating him. Rising up rapidly, the adrenaline already driving his system, he slammed his flexed forearm against the man's throat the force of the blow sending the man tumbling down the stairs. His comrades barely avoided his falling body, the dodging briefly distracting them but not for long. Handling the next opponent was just as easy, catching the thrown punch with one hand Yami clenched his injured hand and slammed it down the mans elbow, bending the joint and giving him the room to ram his elbow into the side of the man's head. The thug instantly saw stars, vision waning and blurring his view of Yami, thus enabling Yami to snap one leg up in a high kick and brutally slammed his foot into the same spot on the side of the man's head. With a cry he flipped over the railing and down few feet to the hardwood floor.

He wasn't so lucky with his next assailant. From his heavy breathing the sting in his back and torso began to blind him, along with the sheer agony the ripped through the damaged wrist that he had just used. He barely blocked the blow to his head, the pain of the thugs arm slamming into his crippled wrist forcing him back down to one knee. Holding back a cry he snapped up his other hand, barely catching the fist that was flying towards his face, but the force of the punch sent both of them off balance. Yami fell back onto the stairs, his bruised back being crushed against the corner of a stair when his assailant collapsed onto him, his hands being forcefully pinned to the stairs by his attacker's fists.

"Nice try bitch," snarled the thug on top of him, grinning cockily down at him while keeping him firmly pinned to the stairs, his comrades slowly picking themselves up and coming back up the stairs. His grin widening when Yami vehemently tried to wriggle his wrists free, only to loudly wince when he squeezed them. "Time to have some fun."

"Get off of me!" Yami growled, wriggling his one knee between his assailant's legs and slammed it up, sharply connecting with his groin.

Screaming the man rose up; hands cupping his injured appendage, blearily watching his two comrades viciously take hold of both Yami's arms and pull him to his feet. Growling the man spat at Yami while his two comrades dragged him down the stairs, "You son of a bitch!"

Yami struggled wildly, ignoring the searing pain in his body he desperately tried to wrench free of the two burly men's grasp. He was at a disadvantage, not only was he wounded but all of his assailants were far larger than him in either height or muscle. He could feel his joints popping in his futile efforts to wriggle away, crimson eyes fear fully watching the leader toy with a short metal pipe. Biting his lip he double his efforts, all it did was burn more energy out of his system.

It was already pretty clear in Yami's mind that these men were not here to rob, they were here to kill or torture. This was something his entire family had always feared would happen. During Garret's years of working in the gang unit they had had threat after threat from gangs; one of them had nearly been able to pull through one of them. These men wanted Garret to pay for what ever wrong he had done them, and like the cowards they generally were, they were going after his family instead of confronting the man in person. Keeping his body from trembling he stared defiantly at the leader, mind excepting full well that they were going to beat him senseless until help arrived, and he would be damned it he gave them the pleasure of screaming or giving up any information that they wanted.

The leader grinned at him, absently gliding his hand up and down the cool metal rod, "So, you're the chief's precious puppy. Let's see how well you can play, hm. I think we should play a little game called tell me what I want to know, how's that sound." He chuckled deeply when Yami narrowed his eyes further, boldness seeping through his pores. "Heh, tough guy huh, lets see how tough you really are, pin him against the wall."

Yami had no further warning before he was rammed against the wall; both his arms successfully pinned by burly hands while one of the two gripped his chin and kept his head against the wall. He was forced to watch the leader experimentally flick the metal rod, clenching his jaw he prepared himself for the obvious blow that was about to come, willing his body to relax in hopes of reducing the damage.

"This," growled the leader, winding up and slamming the metal pole across Yami's gut, disappointed when to scream rang out just a deep grunt. "Is for having your dog kill our friend."

Internally retching against the pain Yami closed his eyes and breathed through the pain coursing through his stomach, his muscles tightening in reflex against it. Shuddering slightly he re-opened his eyes, glaring defiantly at the leader, his own fear dormant within him while his will to protect his father was a burning external flame. Nothing would stop him from that, not even the prospect of the amount of pain he was clearly about to go through.

Temper flaring the leader tapped the pole against his leg, pacing in slow deliberate steps in front of his captive, "Where is the Chief?" Meeting a dark stare and a silent brick wall he raised the weapon and propelled it into Yami's sternum, grinning at the audible cracking of bone. Again, Yami did not give him the blood chilling scream nor did he give the information, he merely grunted low in his throat and scrunched his face against the pain. Snarling he wound up again for another strike, determined to get some sort of vocal response. "Tell me you little fucker or I'll beat you senseless."

Shuddering violently through the second wave of pain Yami swallowed the copper tasting liquid that welled up in his throat. Inhaling carefully he returned to glaring at the leader, suppressing a smirk when the man shuddered under his garnet gaze. Relaxing his body as much as he could he snapped out his response, knowing full well the consequence it was going to bring. "Fuck you!"

He was barely able to quell the screams that wanted to rip his throat apart, the pain from the raining blows from the hard pole overwhelming his senses. There was nothing he could do to fight back; he was rendered completely immobile by the two men holding him in place, none of them hindered by their dead companion or the unconscious one by the stairs. He could taste blood pooling in the back of his mouth, the extent of the damage being exemplified by it, reminding him that the human body can only take so much torment.

His vision began to blacken when the blows suddenly stopped; bewildered he lifted his head with a groan, glaring across at the leader. His glare faltered as he spotted a berretta in the leader's hand, cocked and pointed at his chest. Swallowing hard he tried to wrench away, panic setting in as he realised that the men knew full well he wasn't going to talk and were just going to be rid of him. The click of the trigger echoed loudly in his ears, his fear amplifying the sound of the gun going off.

White-hot pain sliced through him the instant the bullet hit his left lung, the intense burning sensation of the bullet ricocheting around in his torso knocking the breath and a strained scream from him. They let go of him, his body simply collapsed much akin to a broken doll, first to his knees then dropping down onto his left side. Warm blood was already starting to seep from him, soaking his shit and pooling on the floor. He tried to focus on anything, his consciousness rapidly fading from the pain and the beginning of significant blood loss. His mind was barely able to register the sound of the front door slamming open, his gaze lifted to see Garret stumble in through the front door gun drawn and deep voice roaring at the intruders. Yami tried to scream, tried to tell Garret to run, but his vocal cords refused to work.

Everything moved in slow motion. Garret running into the house, demanding that the intruders leave before back-up arrives. The leader lifting the hand holding the gun and swivelling it towards Garret, the chief missing it completely as his eyes fell on the bloodied body of his barely breathing son on the floor. Again, the clicking noise echoed shrilly along with the bang of the gun. Garret had no chance, his eyes remained fixated on Yami's stunned crimson eyes while the bullet buried itself in his forehead, through his cranium and out blood exploding in it its wake.

Stunned Yami released a silent scream, eyes absorbing the entire scene in horror. Garret's joints buckled, snapping as if the strings holding him up had been cut and he collapsed to the floor in an undignified heap, lifeless with milky eyes, eyes that were still fixated on his face. He was frozen, not only in agony and shock but also in sheer terror. The face of his mother when she died blurred with his father's rapidly paling one, his mind screaming at him to get up and run, he did not want to die, not like this, not now.

Shutting down he tried to relax, his breathing shallow and wheezing while his heart pounded at an alarming speed, neither of which he could fix. He had no strength left to stay awake, the last thing that registered in his mind was the smell of kerosene then the sudden and intense roar of flames.

From down the street Soren was snapped out of his relaxed state by screams outside. Groggily he sat up and rubbed his eyes so he could see what time it was. He hadn't been home long, maybe forty minutes. Abby was fast asleep beside him, being a heavy sleeper she did not even notice him get up from the bed and lethargically stumble over to the bedroom window. Yawning he opened the blinds, needing to know what the screaming was for, growling to himself that it had better not be drunk teenagers. What he was met by dried his mouth and stole the air from his lungs. He lived at the end of the long cul-de-sac, giving him a perfect view of the entire street. All that registered was the angry red flames that were rapidly engulfing Yami's home, and the fact that he could not spot his friend anywhere outside.

"No…no, no, no!" he yelled, scrambling to pull on his clothes, all the while not noticing Abby sitting up in bed.

"Honey, what's wrong?" She asked groggily.

"Yami's house is on fire, call the fire department, I'm going over there." He replied hastily, giving her a pointed look before dashing out the bedroom and to the front door.

Shoving on his shoes he shot out the front door sprinting as fast as his legs could carry him to his friends burning home. Avoiding the few people that were out on the street he skidded to a halt in front of the house, taking in the image of the intense dancing flames and black smoke rising from the home that he had known and loved for the past twenty years. Snapping his gaze away he peered around for Yami, again not seeing him he turned to a nearby couple, "Has anyone seen Yami and Garret come out? The vehicles are here they have to be home." The couple shook their heads. Cursing Soren pleaded gripping the man's coat, "I'm an EMT, I need to go in there and see if they're home, I need your jacket so I can have a screen from the smoke."

The man nodded, willingly giving him his coat and begging him to be careful. Soren didn't hear it, he quickly covered his mouth with the fabric and sprinted to the open front door. The heat hit his face, tearing at his flesh and daring him to enter the blazing him. Coughing against the smoke he peered around. The flames were everywhere, no apparent starting point just livid flames scorching the house to ashes. Loud creaking caught his attention and he yelped as parts of the stair well crumbled and fell into the kitchen. Then he both heard and spotted two of the individuals living in the house. Reno was barking behind the basement door, while at his feet Soren stared down at Garret's lifeless body retching when he noticed the glassy stare and the bullet hole in his head.

"I need some help here!" he yelled out to the crowd, a hopeful smile crossing his features as a police car pulled up to the front yard. Bakura and Grey were dashing out and within seconds were at his side, both pale with shock.

"What the hell happened here," Grey demanded, staring at Garret's corpse.

"I don't know, but we need to get Garret out of here. I can hear Reno but I haven't been able to get in yet and look for Yami," Soren expounded, voice muffled through the jacket.

Squinting against the heat Bakura clenched his fists, "I'll look for Yami, you two get Garret and Reno out. Hurry, we don't have much time."

He didn't even give the two a moment to protest before he covered his mouth with his shirt and stormed into the raging out, cringing from the inferno heat that besieged him. He could hear Grey and Soren letting the dog out of the basement before dragging Garret's body out of the house. All he could see and hear was the roaring flames, it was overwhelming him to the point where he could barely think or see. Seeing that the stairs were destroyed he prayed to any God that would listen that Yami wasn't up there. His prayers were answered when his eyes caught sight of the young man's trademark hair in the kitchen, his hope faltering when he saw that the fallen debris from the stairs was blocking his way to him and that Yami was clearly unconscious.

Growling he pulled his sleeve down so it was covering his hand and moved towards the debris, violently hacking at the fallen piece of railing with his arm, nearly jumping for joy when it crumbled instantly. Scrambling over it he dashed over to where Yami was lying, his stomach turning when he noticed the large pool of blood gathering around him, the liquid bubbling from the high temperature of the flames. Snarling he dropped down, he knew something was wrong, he just hadn't imagined that it was something this bad. Reaching out he ran his hand over Yami's face and down the entire length of his body, feeling crepitus beneath his fingers along with hot bloody and an extremely faint pulse he shook his head, "They beat the shit out of him, whoever they are."

"Bakura, did you find him," Grey called from the doorway, slowly making his way back into the inferno.

"He's here, I'm going to need some help," he yelled out, taking off his jacket and covering Yami's battered body with it. "Hurry, this whole place is going to collapse soon."

Jumping over the smashed remnants of the stair railing Grey knelt down at Yami's other side, taking quick inventory of the obvious damage, "Someone tried to kill them then cover it up, hes got a gunshot wound too."

"Among other things. Shut up and help me get him in my arms, we need to get out of here, he's inhaled way too much smoke and is in way too bad of shape to handle it," Bakura snapped.

"Alright," Grey murmured, waiting till Bakura had rolled Yami onto his back and had firmly tucked his arms under his neck and knees before moving to help. Supporting Yami's side to make sure he didn't tumble the two of them stood up, shifting Yami's weight until he was completely in Bakura's firm hold.

"Come on," Bakura growled out, grunting at Yami's lightweight and careening out the front door and into the cold night. Keeping a firm hold on Yami he dashed down the stairs and towards Soren whom was sitting in the front yard by Garret's body. The young man looked up at him and paled seeing his best friends condition, Bakura cringed at the sob he heard emit from Soren's mouth as he carefully knelt

down and laid Yami on the grass while Grey moved to keep the people away.

Soren's hands fumbled, clearly trying to hold back tears as he did a quick assessment, taking in vitals and the obvious damage. Bakura watched him lose the battle, biting his lip and watching the young man's face become rapidly stained with tears. Seeing that Soren was in no state to do anything Bakura put his hand over the gunshot wound to Yami's chest and applied pressure, "What's damage?"

Fervently wiping the tears from his face Soren ran his eyes over Yami's body, both hands taking one of Yami's limp ones and holding it to his chest. "Aside from the injuries he had before, it looks like someone continually hit his stomach and chest with something, along with a sucking chest wound from the gunshot. His respirations are at twenty-six per minute, he needs artificial ventilation and fast or he has no chance, and his airway isn't clear, I can see blood. His skin is pale, cool and clammy…indicating that he is in early stages of shock from haemorrhaging, and there's some cyanosis around his lips from lack of oxygen. His pulse is rapid and thready; it's at about one hundred and twenty…way too high. Basically, he's in hemorrhagic shock, if an ambulance does not get here soon he will go into irreversible shock because of his body trying to compensate for the blood loss…he'll die…dear God…" Soren crumbled, his tears returning as he bent over and tightly held on to Yami's bloodied hand. "Please no, I can't lose you too."

Biting his lip Bakura closed his eyes, hissing as more blood continued to seep between his fingers, "Dammit, is there anything we can do!?"

Soren shook his head, "Aside from putting pressure on the wound, there is nothing we can do until an ambulance gets here."

Cursing again Bakura pushed harder down on the wound, desperately trying to stop any more of the precious fluid from leaving Yami's body. Staring down he took in the rapidly paling skin that before was a luscious bronze, the dark bruises covering the exposed parts of his battered body, Yami chest heaving violently in an attempt to breathe but was clearly failing miserably through the audible wheezes escaping him. Shaking his head Bakura frantically looked around, someone must have called for fire and EMS, why were they taking so long to get here. He had never felt so desperate and useless in his life, here was a young nineteen-year-old swiftly slipping away and there was nothing he could do about it except hope that help would arrive soon. '

His heart, along with Grey and Soren's, soared at the piercing roar of sirens ripping down the street towards the house. They watched the ambulance and many fire trucks pull up in front of the house, the firefighters dashing to put out the blaze while the paramedics scrambled over to them, stretcher and supplies in hand.

"Sir," one of the EMT's murmured, tapping Bakura's shoulder to get his attention. "Can I ask you to take C-spine, you know how to do that right." Nodding Bakura moved to do as asked, trapping Yami's head between his knees to keep it firmly in place, silently listening to Soren relay what he knew while the EMT's quickly divested Yami of his shirt, put a bag-valve mask over his mouth and turned on the oxygen tank and applied a dressing over the gunshot would.

One of the EMT's started to reassess Yami's vitals after all the interventions where in place and he had directed Soren to get the c-collar and spine board. Bakura noticed the man's eyes widen in dismay, he didn't even have to demand an answer, the EMT was instantly screaming to Soren and his partner, "He's breathless and pulse less, someone grab the AED now!"

His heart was in his throat, eyes widening in shock, mindlessly watching the three EMT's scramble to clean Yami's bloodied chest as much as they could and stick on the small pads from the AED while one administered CPR and Soren managed the bag-valve-mask. His brain shut off, body going numb as he continued to stare on, the three EMT's yells of clear and shocking the only thing breaking through his fog. All he could see was the heavy chest compressions, the bag-valve-mask, and Yami's body jerking when shock was administered.

Leaning down one of the EMT's checked Yami's vitals again after the AED voiced for it to be done, his yelp of join tearing everyone back into reality, "He's got a weak pulse, and his breathing is less than eight a minute. Let's load and go guys."

Blinking Bakura shook his head and shuffled back a bit, allowing the three EMT's to administer the c-collar, carefully roll Yami onto the spine board before clipping him down and lifting him onto the stretcher. Inhaling for the first time in minutes he looked at Grey, "I'm going with them, meet me at the Foothills hospital."

Stunned Grey nodded, averting from his conversation with the firefighters around him, "Is he going to make it!?"

Bakura shook his head in uncertainty, giving his friend a small comforting smile he dashed after the EMT's and into the back of the ambulance, assisting in closing the doors. The driver sped off without a thought, sirens blaring to aid in a speedy ride to the hospital. Sighing deeply Bakura reached out to Soren, whom was sitting beside him, and took the one hand that was not holding Yami's, "He'll make it, don't worry."

Soren peered up at him dejectedly the tears still coursing down his cheeks, nodding stiffly he turned his attention back to Yami's face, "I hope so, I really do."

**A/N: **_So…please review, I love to hear what you guys have to say…and don't kill me, or I wont be able to give you the next chapter…hehe…I'm going to write the next chapter now…_


	4. Chapter 4

SILHOUETTE

_**A/N:**__ Sorry again for the typo's…most of them I did not notice until I posted the chapter, and I was so concerned with getting it up that I didn't even go through it. I was in the heat of the moment too…just finished writing it and instantly put it up, was so happy for once with how the chapter turned out. '_

_Thanks to Tavia454, Junki, Toxic Hathor,__ Moon Princess Kagura, Kuroneko1571__ and Yami Yashi for the wonderful reviews, I am so glad that you all like this as much as you say you do, you're making me very very happy that I decided to try and write fanfiction again. lol. I'm going to give thanks also to my boyfriend and to Soularia Reed for helping me with every little problem I have ran into with this fic, and for their constant support. Hope this chapter pleases all of you, and sorry again for the long wait for the last chapter…and for this one, wrote most of it by hand at work when it was dead…which wasn't often…and just, the schedule I have had for this week has been hectic never mind the fact that I've barely been sleeping. The only other…set back…would be that my cat broke the little USB flashdrive that I use to save both this story and the novel I am working on…so I have been in a panicked rush trying to see if any of my friends have received any parts of my novel… _

**CHAPTER FOUR**

The slow rhythmic beat of a heart monitor machine mingled with the audible breathing from the occupant of the hospital bed. The other three people in the room were keeping a constant and exhausted vigil over him, one sitting beside him and almost desperately clinging to his hand, one sat in another chair across the room and the other was leaning against a wall. Their eyes were constantly switching between the heart monitor and the young man on the bed. They were silent as they waited for the doctor to come in and give them the detailed report on the damage done, a report that they were both anxious for and dreading.

Sighing Bakura shifting his weight from one foot to the other, scrubbing his face with his hands he glanced up at the clock, it was almost six in the morning. They had been here since just after midnight; first they impatiently paced in the waiting room through the gruelling three-hour surgery, then the two-hour waiting period afterward merely added to their worry. The doctor had come to find them right after the surgery, informing them that they had to resuscitate Yami once while repairing the internal damage from both the bullet and whatever had been used to bludgeon his chest and stomach, and warning them that they had yet to be able to wake Yami from the anaesthesia and they doubted that they would. All the doctor said was that there was a great amount of damage, enough that Yami's body had shut down and was in a sort of comatose state. While the last hour they had spent waiting in this hospital room for the doctor to come in and give them the full report.

Crossing his arms Bakura averted his attention back to Yami's lethargic form, ghosting his eyes over the young mans body as he had done over and over again for the last hour he assessed the damage that was visible with the naked eye. There were far more bruises now than were even noticeable when he had carried him out of the fire. They had all darkened and littered his arms and face, some of the ones he had before were significantly darker, obviously from further damage. A breathing tube was lodged down his trachea and hooked up to a large oxygen tank behind the bed, it was breathing for him, forcing adequate but slow amounts of oxygen into his system his chest rising and falling subtly from it. His entire chest was thickly bandaged protecting the extensive amount of injuries there. Several IV and morphine lines were sticking out from his elbow, needle marks from the doctors being unable to find sufficient veins red and glaring. The bronze skin that he was already used to was ashen from blood loss and trauma, both mental and physical. His one wrist, the one he remembered being injured before, was splinted and bandaged, obviously badly sprained or broken.

Shaking his head Bakura pushed himself away from the wall and walked over to Soren, gently placing a hand on the young EMT's shoulder. Soren had finally calmed down about two hours ago, his crying stopped along with his need to hit something. He was pale as well, worry clearly weighing down on him, his eyes filled to the brim with tears as he continued to hold Yami's limp hand and run his other up and down the bruises. Soren almost jumped when he touched him, grip tightening on Yami's hand, looking up at him he offered a weak smile, "You scared me."

"Sorry," Bakura murmured, patting Soren's shoulder. "I don't know about you, but I could use something hot to drink, something to wake me up, how bout you?"

Nodding Soren loosened his grip on Yami's hand, "That would be great, I'm not planning on leaving here, not until they kick me out."

Grey smiled, rising to his feet he moved over and stood beside Bakura, "I could go for that too, probably something to eat as well."

"Not yet I am afraid gentlemen," came a voice followed by a small fist knocking on the door. Rounding on the intruder the three stared at the older doctor whom was standing in the doorway, clipboard in hand. It was the same doctor that had done the surgery. "I am sorry that it took so long for me to come, but the hospital has been rather busy tonight."

"That's fine," the three answered in unison, Grey and Bakura instantly sitting down in nearby chairs, all intently looking at the doctor.

Inhaling slowly the doctor stepped into the room and closed the door behind him, eyes peering down at the clipboard through the lenses of his glasses, "Where do I begin, I mean, this young man was obviously beaten fairly violently. His spleen was ruptured, there was damage to both kidneys and the bullet ricocheted around in his chest and stomach. It first entered in his left lung just below his heart and thankfully away from the aorta, and bounced around a bit before finally lodging in his large intestines. Needless to say there were few organs that were not at least grazed by the bullet. There was a lot of internal bleeding; obviously he was beaten in the chest and stomach with a metal bar or something akin to that. If he had arrived minutes later than he did, we would not have been able to save him. All the previous injuries he had have merely worsened, his concussion thankfully is not severe but not exactly a nice one, and his wrist and back sustained more damage. His sternum is broken, along with about eight of his ribs, the rest are strained or bruised. He has some smoke inhalation damage; his asthma did not help the issue. In short, he's lucky to be alive; he should not have made it through surgery."

All three dropped their heads in dismay, taking in the dismal information. Shaking Soren began to absently rub Yami's hand, focus trained on the doctor, "Will he make it?"

The doctor sighed deeply, his expression grave, "With the comatose state that his body is currently in, his chances are low. If he doesn't start breathing on his own and wake up within the next forty-eight hours, his chances will go from the forty percent probability I am giving him, to twenty. It's up to him now, whether he wants to survive this or not, there is nothing more we doctors can do other than to sustain the care we are currently giving him."

Stifling a sob Soren shook his head in disbelief, "Why did this happen?" he stammered, leaning into Grey's hand as the detective rubbed his back comfortingly.

Shifting the doctor glanced between all of them, "I suggest that you contact his family as soon as possible."

"Heh, what family," Soren scoffed bitterly, his tears returning, dark eyes glaring at the doctor, barely catching the startled expressions Bakura and Grey were giving him. "His Mother's side of the family hasn't spoken to him since he was ten, and there is no one left on his Dad's side that he is aware of. My family is the closest thing he has left for relatives right now."

Pursing his lips the doctor turned to leave the room, seemingly un-phased by the outburst, "Then call your family, they may wish to be here encase he doesn't make it," with that he vacated, closing the door behind him.

Glaring at the door Bakura clenched his fists, resisting the urge to follow the doctor and give him a piece of his mind, namely his fist connecting with his face. Releasing a calming breath he looked across at Soren, instantly his anger was replaced with melancholy and sympathy. Soren was trying to keep himself in check, trying to keep the tears back as he stood up and tightly embraced Yami's limp form, his pleading words barely above a whisper but clear as day in the silence of the small hospital room. Hanging his head Bakura stared at the floor, he could only imagine what Soren was going through, never in his life had he lost or almost lost someone dear to him.

"I should probably try and call his Grandfather...at least have the common courteously to tell the bastard what has happened, though he will probably have nothing nice to say," Soren sniffled, sitting back down in his chair, hands never leaving Yami's.

"Why hasn't Yami spoken to him for so long?" Grey questioned, even though he had been a distant friend of Garret's he knew nothing of the man's family, Garret never spoke about it.

Wiping away his tears Soren looked between the two of them, "For one, all of Tawni's family lives in Ireland, where she was born and raised. The other, Gabriel, Yami's grandfather, is one of the most racist pigs I have ever not had the pleasure of knowing existed. Basically, Tawni's father is on of those people that believes that only white people are good and smart, and white people should never mix with other ethnicities. Well, as you can probably imagine, Tawni marrying Garret didn't exactly go over well, never mind when they had Yami. Tawni and Garret had been trying to have kids for over five years before they had him, and all Gabriel could say was that Yami should be burned because of his mixed blood. On Yami's tenth birthday, Gabriel phoned for the first time to talk to him, only to call him dirty blood and then hang up. Needless to say since she moved here, Tawni has spoken to her parents maybe five times. Once when she got here, next when she got engaged to Garret, next when they got married, after that when Yami was born and then when Yami was in the hospital a few years ago, that's all."

Blinking in disbelief Bakura and Grey exchanged stunned looks, leaning forward in his chair Bakura pressed, "Why was Yami in the hospital a few years ago?"

Down casting his eyes Soren expounded, his hand tightening again on Yami's, "About three years ago, just after Garret got out of the gang unit, Yami and I were walking home from soccer practice late at night and we got mugged in the alley behind his house. They were going to rob us and beat Yami in hopes to pay Garret back for something that he did. I tried to stop them, and one pulled out a knife and charged at me…somehow Yami had gotten away and jumped in front of me. The knife hit him in the stomach; had to remove his appendix and repair the damage done to one of his kidneys, he was in critical condition for a week. He jumped in front of that knife without any concern for himself and nearly died because of it, just to save me. But, Gabriel could have cared less. In fact, he told Tawni that God was finally doing the right thing and getting rid of her mistake."

Stiffly running his hand through his hair Bakura stared at Yami's face, "What happened to Tawni?"

"She was murdered," Soren murmured running a shaky hand through his hair, immediately catching the knowing look on Grey's face. "Yami found her."

"What!?" Bakura exclaimed. "That's not what I heard!"

Sighing Soren reluctantly nodded, "We went out to a movie with a couple of friends, well, after convincing Yami that he needed to get out of the house. When him and I returned to him house afterwards the front door was broken open, I ran to call the police and he went to check and see if his Mom was alright, she was sleeping when we left." Voice cracking Soren bowed his head, his body trembling in an attempt to suppress his emotions, rubbing the fresh tears from his eyes he willed himself to continue. "Never in my life have I seen Yami like he was that night when he found her, he was a mess. I heard him cry out from his parent's room, when I got upstairs he was trying to wake her up, and ended up rolling her over just as I turned the bedroom light on. That was the first time I have ever heard Yami scream and one of the few times I have ever see him openly cry. The bed was covered in blood…whoever had broken in had shot Tawni at least ten times, most of the bullets hitting the back of her head. Her face was gone…there was so much blood, and so many exit wounds, if you didn't know it was her there was no other way to identify her. He was cradling her, and no matter what I did he refused to let her go when the police arrived. A police officer and I had to hold him back so we could get her into a body bag.

"When Garret arrived Yami refused to let him see her, refused to let him into the bedroom where the police officer and I were trying to calm him down. My Dad had to keep Garret out until Yami was ready to let him come near him. We ended up having to take Yami to the hospital, his asthma went out of control…even his puffer couldn't calm his breathing."

Swallowing harshly Bakura slouched in his chair, his gaze returning to Yami's sleeping face. He could feel his throat going dry from the welling emotions within him, suddenly feeling thankful for the life he had led so far. Biting his lip he closed his eyes, Yami was barely twenty-years-old and already he had been through hell and back twice, and was now being forced to endure it again. Heaving a shaky breath he questioned, "Did they at least find the killer…or is it still an open case?"

"Cold case…the killer was never found, all leads hit dead ends. The only two that still consider it an open case are Yami and Garret," Soren said softly.

"So much for closure," Grey grunted.

Standing up Bakura turned to leave the room, "I'm going to go get some coffee and food, do you two still want something," he questioned, sharply changing the subject. Gaining a nod from both of them he opened the door and stepped out into the hallway. "Alright, I'll be right back."

Closing the door as quietly as possible Bakura began to aimlessly wander the hallways, slowly making his way towards the cafeteria. He needed out of that room and getting the coffee and some food was as good of an excuse as any. Never in his life had he sat in a hospital, never mind with someone so gravely injured. Violently he shook his head, ignoring the weird looks he received, trying to erase Yami's image from his mind. It didn't help; he could not get any part of carrying the young man from the burning inferno, nor watching hum unconscious and artificially breathing in a sterile white room. Heaving a shaky sigh he focused his attention on finding the cafeteria in hopes of briefly forgetting the nights events.

It did not take him long to stumble into one of the many cafeterias in the large hospital. Scowling in disappointment of the short walk he went and ordered the items he wanted. Balancing the three steaming cups of coffee and muffins he meandered back to the room, glad when no nurses moved to aid him with his large load.

Reaching the door he give it a gentle kick. Grey was there immediately, opening it and stepping aside to let him in before closing it behind him. Setting the tray on a small table Bakura took the cream and sugar he grabbed and put them in two of the cups. Handing those two cups and two of the muffins to Soren and Grey, he took his own black coffee and muffin before nonchalantly dropping down into a chair.

Shuddering at the surge of warmth the coffee game him Soren relaxed back into his chair, letting go of Yami's hand for the first time since he was taken out of the recovery room. Glancing between the two detectives a glaring question rose in hi s mind, carefully, as not to offend, he asked, "Why have you two stayed…I mean, both of you barely know him."

Exchanging a silent thought and an agreeing nod, the two detectives smiled at him. Grey leaned close to him, balancing his coffee in his hands, "We don't need to know him well to care. Besides, we want to see him pull though we did help save him. Also, out of our respect and friendship with his father…. and, you looked like you needed some company too."

Stunned Soren smiled gratefully at them, "Thank you."

"No need to thank," said Bakura between large mouthfuls of his muffin. "We'll stay as long as we can, or as long as you want us to."

"That's not up to me," Soren murmured. "Stay as long as you want, I won't stop you."

The group few silent, all drawing back into their own thoughts while downing their coffee and muffins. Bakura's mind was wildly racing; mentally flipping through all the pages of notes they had on the case, through images of the crime scenes and finally through the immense suspect pool. Internally growling he rubbed his temple in an attempt to ward off the pounding headache forming behind his eyes.

Opening his eyes again, and like earlier, he locked on Yami. Narrowing said eyes he crossed his arms. It abruptly struck him as suspicious that he and Grey had just confirmed their theory that change in symbol may signify the megalomaniacs want to start targeting the two EMT's, and now Yami was in critical condition in the hospital. Somehow this seemed like far too much of a coincidence to be overlooked. Tapping his foot on the floor he snapped his gaze to Soren, perhaps now was the best time to warn the EMT about their suspicions. Decision made he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

"There is something we need to tell you Soren," Bakura started, gaining the confused attention of Soren and the questioning one of Grey. "I'm warning you now, though, it's not something you're going to like, but I am starting to believe it has something to do with Yami's current predicament."

"Kura', what are you talking about?" Grey pressed, uncertain where this was going.

"Think about it Grey, what were we talking about just before we went to report to Garret," Bakura said, giving his partner a soft glare, glad when Grey's face lit up in understanding. "As you are probably aware, the victim you and Yami saved was killed in this hospital the other night."

Clenching his jaw Soren reluctantly nodded, "Yes, I am aware; Yami and I heard the broadcast during our last shift."

"Well," continued Bakura, placing his now empty coffee cup on the nearby table. "He changed the symbol on the victim's stomach from the Caduceus, to the Paramedics symbol."

Jaw dropping Soren stared at him in stunned disbelief, "Wha…What?"

Bobbing his head in confirmation Grey finished, "We believe the killer may target you and Yami after he is done this revenge spree we think he's on."

Putting two and two together Soren clenched his free hand, "You don't think this was a random attack…the one on Yami and Garret…do you?"

"No," Bakura stated. "But, we won't be able to determine anything towards that theory until Yami wakes up and the forensics team gives us what they find at the house."

Gulping roughly Soren took a slow swig of his coffee, trying to ignore the violent churning his stomach was doing. "I doubt it was done by on person, even injured Yami is amazing when it comes to self defence, Garret and Tawni made him go through eight years of Judo and Jujitsu training."

Bakura frowned, _that would explain why he could fight so well, and why he broke my nose with no effort._ Tentatively he touched his still bandaged nose, wincing when the motion caused it to flare with sharp pain, growling at his damaged pride he slumped back in his chair. "I doubt the killer would have done the attack himself, and I doubt that he wanted Yami dead."

"And why would you say that?" Soren demanded.

"He's a perfectionist, you and Yami damaged his precious ego. Thus, I highly doubt he wanted Yami killed, he would rather do it himself to his standards. I think this is just a warm up, a precursor per say. I believe that he wanted Garret gone, Garret was a huge and powerful man, intimidating, and he probably knows that Garret would go through hell and back to protect his son. And, in doing this, Yami's weakened, thus an easier target to play with," shrugging his shoulder's Bakura peered between Grey and Soren. "It's an ugly reality, but that seems to be how this prick thinks. He's obviously going after Yami first, probably because he did the most damage. But, at the same time, that sounds odd for him, you would think that he would take his time killing the one that punched at his ego the most."

Numbly Soren nodded, "I didn't do anything except keep the patient from bleeding out. Yami did all the fighting."

Furrowing his brow Bakura scratched his chin in thought, "He may not even want to touch you then, he probably didn't even notice you were there, he would have been so absorbed in Yami challenging him to even see you."

"That would explain why he hasn't done anything to you yet," Grey said pointedly at Soren. "Yami was the one that attacked him, and with how much of an ego manic and perfectionist he is, he would only have noticed the one challenging him."

"That's comforting," Soren grunted, fingers reaching out to take hold of Yami's hands, biting his lip when he noticed how badly they were trembling. "Can you find a theory to revoke him from the killers list now?"

Forlornly the two detectives shook their heads, "I wish it was that easy," Grey murmured.

Sighing dejectedly, Soren stood up stiffly and walked to the door, "I had better start phoning people, be right back," with that he stepped out into the hall and closed the door.

The instant the door was closed Bakura moved his chair up to the side of the hospital bed. Waving off the questioning look Grey was sending him way he nervously took one of Yami's hands, his other ghosting over the IV's in his elbow with a pained expression, "In the years that I have been a police officer, even a detective, I have never seen someone alive with this many injuries. Never once in my life have I even sat in a hospital room with someone, never mind someone I know whose condition is this calamitous."

Shifting his own chair up beside his partners Grey gripped his shoulder and gave it a comforting squeeze, "It's not easy, even if you barely know the person. I know when my Dad was in he hospital a few years for the heart attack he had, my whole world was crumbling, along with the rest of my families. But, his condition was not as bad as we all believed it was, it had been minor. I've never seen someone alive with this extensive of injuries either Bakura, I've always been praying never to see it. All we can do is hope that he'll pull through, and hope that he didn't see what happened to Garret."

"He's got no one," Bakura murmured, gently massaging the cold hand between his two warm ones. "Aside from Soren's family, he's got nothing to live for, nothing to go to. Even if he does pull through where will he go, he's got no family and no home, and I can just tell by his personality that he wont want to put any sort of 'burden' on Soren's family. What does he honestly have to fight to love for?"

Sighing deeply Grey rose to his feet and moved around to the other side of the bed, leaning against the mattress he stared between Yami's ashen face and Bakura's troubled one. "I don't know Kura', I really don't. But that's up to him now, all we can do it wait and hope that he wants to try to come back to us."

"I hate the waiting game," Bakura grumbled. "Don't have the patience for it, but it doesn't look like I have much of a choice this time."

Sadly shaking his head Grey grabbed Soren's chair and pulled it up so he could sink into it, "We all do."

The sharp ringing of a cell phone made the heart rate of all three men sky rocket. Scrambling for his phone Grey narrowed his eyes at the number, it was the officer that he had left to watch over Yami;s home while the forensic team went through it with the fire department, "Hello."

"_Detective Briggs…I have some news…. and you're probably not going to like it_," The officer said.

"Spit it out."

"_We found a body in the basement, its being sent off to the ME's office now."_

Stunned Grey stared at Soren –whom was re-entering the room- and Bakura in shock, questioning harshly as he hung up the phone, "Was anyone else supposed to be in that house?"

Bewildered Soren shook his head, "No, we were all gone bout forty minutes before the house was set on fire. Why?"

"They found a body in the basement," Grey expounded.

"It must be one of the attackers then," Bakura murmured. "Well, we hope at least."

"Let's hope then," Grey said, shaking his head.

Within an hour the room had filled with five other people, along with a large multitude of flowers. Abby, Soren's fiancé was quietly sitting in a corner, seemingly un-phased by the sight of her future husbands critically injured best friend. Elenor and Jack, Soren's parents, had spent hours desperately trying to get through to Yami's grandfather between calling friends to give the melancholy news before the media blew it out of proportion, along with half-heartedly beginning to make funeral arrangements. Kieran and Crissy, Soren's younger brother and older sister, were sitting with their brother on one side of Yami's bed. Grey and Bakura had kept to the other side of the bed, trying to exchange in a pleasant conversation with Soren and his siblings for most of the day.

Even through the newly developed minimal noise in the room, Yami had yet to stir. His condition had not changed from how it was after he was taken out of the recovery room; his breathing was still slow and artificial, his heart beat steady, and his body in the exact same position. No colour had returned to his skin yet, aside from the bruises seeming to continually darken. There was only one small change that during the last hour or so of visiting time that was noticeable. Yami's eyes were clearly moving within his sockets, his eyelids shudder with the movements, but never open. The nurses assured the group that it was a good sign, showing that his mind was slowly waking up from the comatose state his injuries had put him in.

Grey, Soren and Bakura were rapidly crashing, their energy levels quickly declining as the caffeine they had inhaled hours ago was seeping through them at a rate they wished it wasn't. All three were yawning constantly; their eyes barely able to stay open even in their current situation. They were all desperately wanting a nap, but forcefully keeping that urge at bay, not wanting to miss the moment that Yami awoke.

Intermitted throughout the day people from the Police and EMS came by to drop by flowers and give their condolences to Soren's family, along with briefly say something to Yami's unconscious form. Some prayed, some begged him to pull through, some gave words of confidence that he would be bouncing back in no time, and the odd few silently cried before leaving.

Soren's family was not allowed to stay much past eight. With the firm promise of coming first thing they could they gave all three gentle hugs before reluctantly leaving Yami in the three men's and the hospitals care. The nurses, being as sweet as they were, brought in blankets for the three so that they could sleep during the night. Only because of their badges and Soren's status as an EMT were they allowed to stay, along with the fact that Yami was still labelled in critical but stable condition.

With blankets in hand and the lights in the room dimmed down to a minimal, all three reluctantly surrendered to sleep, certain that they all would scramble into alertness at any sound Yami made.

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A subtle noise in the room jolted Bakura into alertness. Groggily he stirred in the chair he had fallen asleep in, opening his eyes he glared at the soft light filtering in from the partially open hospital room door. Sitting up from where his head was resting on the mattress of Yami's bed he stared across at the young nurse that was checking the machines on the other side of the bed. She glanced at him, having heard him sit up, and smiled, "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

Scrubbing his hand through his hair he sent her a half smile, "It's alright, I'm a light sleeper. How's he doing?"

Shuffling behind Soren's chair she walked over and stood by him so she could whisper, "Sounds like he's trying to breathe on his own, I'm going to go find a doctor to check and confirm it. All of his vitals have remained the same."

Scowling Bakura turned his gaze back to Yami's unconscious form, taking one of the young mans hands again, "What time is it?"

Glancing up at the clock she answered, "It's almost noon. I wanted to let you three sleep, you looked exhausted, I have the family that was here yesterday still waiting outside."

Stretching stiffly Bakura reached over and shook Grey's arm, "Hey, wake up."

Startled into alertness Grey yawned vociferously and glared at his partner before noticing the nurse, "Something wrong?" he questioned.

She shook her head, "No, his condition is still mostly unchanged, no need to worry. Would you like me to let the family in out there, they've been here for the past three hours."

"Please," Bakura yawned, standing up and walking over to gently shake Soren awake. Avoiding Soren's flailing limbs with a bewildered scowl he absently watched the nurse leave the room and Grey turn the light on. "Wake up sleepy head."

Soren glared up at him in disapproval, unwilling to be awoke from his very peaceful slumber. Stretching and yawning much like Grey and Bakura had done he sat up and let his mind settle back into the situation. Rubbing his neck he leaned his elbows against the mattress and stared at Yami's face, shaking his head at the clear darkening of the bruises since he had last looked at him last night before falling asleep, "Is there any change?"

"The nurse thinks he's trying to breathe on his own, she's going to get a doctor to come in and confirm that," expounded Bakura, going back to sit in his chair so it was stolen when Soren's family came in.

Soren's face seemed to brighten from the news; "I sure hope so, if he starts breathing on his own then they can take this accursed tube out, hate seeing it there."

"Don't blame you," Grey said softly, leaning against the end of the bed.

All three looked up to see Crissy and Kieran enter the room, the two giving them soft smiles and closed the door quietly behind them. Crissy went and instantly gave Soren a tight embrace before leaning over and quietly whispering something to Yami and pressing a sisterly kiss to his brow. Straightening she ran her fingers through his hair and glanced down at Soren, "Mom and Dad should be back in a couple of hours, they were called to the funeral home to make some of the arrangements."

"What about Abby, why isn't she here," Soren demanded, seemingly hurt by the lack of her presence.

Kieran shrugged, clearly miffed at the young woman, "She didn't want to come, said she wasn't feeling well enough to be here."

"Some excuse," Bakura grunted, crossing his arms and frowning deeply.

Shaking his head Soren squeezed Yami's hand tightly, "I don't get her latterly."

Patting his brother's shoulder Kieran sat down on the edge of the bed, "Don't try, she probably going through PMS or a sudden phase."

Holding back laughter Grey shook his head, unable to hold back the comment he had been waiting to make since hearing about how moody Abby was, "Or, she's pregnant."

Kieran and Soren's eyes shot open in fear while every one else burst out laughing. Grabbing one of the stick decorations in one of the bouquets of flowers Soren violently chucked it at Grey, "If she is, its her own damn fault for missing a pill and not telling me!"

Smacking him upside the head Crissy glared down at Soren, "I do no want to be an aunt yet, especially to little clones of you, one of you is enough to handle."

Rubbing his head dramatically Soren scowled at her, "I don't want any kids yet either, or nieces and nephews."

A soft knock and the door to the room opening stopped the group in their laughter, surprised to see a different doctor than the one they had been dealing with enter the room. The young male doctor peered at all of them and smiled warmly, "Good to hear such a sound," he said pleasantly. "Don't expect to hear the odd cheerful moment with situations like this. It's a comfort. I'm Dr. Ryant, I'll be replacing Dr. Broderick, he left for a two week vacation last night after doing the last check up."

Standing up Soren shook the man's hand and smiled as best he could, "Good to know, hopefully you're less dismal than he was, if so, we will get along just fine."

"I am assuming you are all family?" Dr. Ryant asked, finishing shaking every ones hands before checking all the machinery.

Crissy sighed, "The closet thing to family he has left. His Dad was all he really had, the family that he does have left lives in Ireland and could care less."

Clearly stunned Dr. Ryant took out a stethoscope and began to listen to Yami's chest, noting the voluntary lung expansion without the force of the oxygen machine. Pleased he took out the pen light from his pocket and moved to open one of Yami's eyes, "Well, he's lucky to have all of you then," he murmured, flicking on the penlight and focusing it on the rolled pupil. Sharply the eye focused, snapping out of its state and locking on his face, stunned he moved to stumble back when he noticed that the other eye was open. Hazy crimson orbs stared at him, uncertainty and clear fear residing in them. Gasping at the suddenness of the young mans alertness he went to step away only for a weak but persistent hand to grab the wrist holding the penlight, pulling the light away so it was no longer shining directly into the patients eye.

All those in the room instantly gathered around the bed at the distressed gasp from the doctor. Seeing that Yami was clearly alert and in a very obvious state of disgruntlement and fear Soren reacted, swiftly taking Yami's other hand he squeezed it tightly and leaned over him, his heart pounding in his chest as those garnet orbs hazily locked on him, "It's alright Yami, you're in the hospital, the doctor's just checking to see if your OK. He wont hurt you, not with us here, let him go bud."

Dr. Ryant sighed with relief when Yami's hand relinquished the crushing hold on his wrist, instinctively rubbing the sore limb he stared down at the young man that was handed into his care. He had only heard about the attack on the news and had no idea the extent of what happened, nor what actually transpired. Never before had he seen a patient wake up so violently, obviously this young man had been traumatized and probably believed that those that harmed him were still tormenting him when he woke. Tentatively he reached out and placed his hand on Yami's arm, glad when this time the look in those crimson eyes was no longer fearful, "I'm going to take that breathing tube out, if you want. Blink if you are alright with that." Seeing the asked for signal he waved his hand for Bakura and Grey to come to his assistance. "We need to sit him up, he won't be able to do it on his own and it will no doubt cause a lot of pain, I'm going to need your help."

"Where do you want us," Bakura questioned.

"One on either side, you will need to support his back and head and give him something to squeeze," Dr. Ryant instructed before glancing down at Yami again. "Blink when you are ready Mr. Horakhty."

Getting into position the group waited for the slow but obvious blink that Yami gave, signalling that he was ready. All four supported him and agonizingly slowly pulled him into a sitting position, Kieran and Crissy standing back and cringing at the muffled sounds of anguish Yami let out. Bakura and Soren were both biting their lips against the intensity that Yami was squeezing their hands with, both knowing that it was him fighting against the overwhelming pain he was probably in. Dr. Ryant noticed this as well and moved rapidly to remove the tube, instructing Yami to exhale slowly before pulling the tube out, every one wincing at the quiet but violent coughing fit it caused in Yami's weak frame. As gently as possible they laid Yami back down, relieved when the position clearly reduced the young man's agony.

Trembling against the severe waves of pain that surged through his body Yami clenched his jaw tightly and refused to left go of Bakura and Soren's hands, albeit reducing the intensity of his grip. Keeping his breathing slow he waited until his body relaxed before taking in his surroundings, seeing all the flowers and everyone in the room he rasped out, "How long have I been in here? How…I…how did I survive that...?"

"Bakura, Grey and I got you out of the house," Soren expounded, his voice cracking when he was unable to hold back the tears of relief that were now flowing from his eyes. "You've been unconscious for almost two days, they didn't think you were going to make it."

His mind was reeling from shock. The last thing he remembered was the flames and intense inferno that surrounded him the instant they lit the match and it connected with the kerosene. How had he survived the fire, never mind the gunshot? Had it all just been a terrible nightmare that he had while unconscious from something else? Timidly he ran his un-bandaged hand down his torso, the returning pain from the action along with the bandages and the exact place of the gunshot wound reaffirmed that it had not been a dream. His one fist clenched harshly as the memories swamped him, forcing his dry vocal cords to work he rasped out, "Dad…Reno…did you get them out?"

"Yeah, we did," Soren assured quietly, his free hand wiping the tears from his cheeks. "Yami….your Dad…"

"I know," Yami interjected disconsolately, eyes glazing over in grief as the memory relentlessly replayed in his mind, tears beginning to seep from him.

Seeing Crissy and Kieran choke back sobs Grey gently encouraged them out of the room, quietly murmuring to Bakura that he was going to take them outside. Giving a nod Bakura stared down at Yami, shaking his head in bewilderment at how fast the mood had went from jubilant to melancholy. Glancing up at the doctor he questioned, "How long do you think we will have to keep him cooped up in here?"

Dr. Ryant pondered for a moment, "Probably four days, maybe more, maybe less. It'll all depend on how well he does. Though, when released, he is never to be left alone and will be on strict bed rest. I am going to go up his morphine levels though. Now that I am in charge of him and he's awake, I won't use Dr. Broderick's unconventional method of reduced painkillers to encourage an unconscious patient into alertness. I'll be back in a little while to check on him," he expounded, punching a few buttons on one of the machines before leaving.

For a moment he watched the doctor leave till he averted back to Yami and Soren. He could feel Yami quaking violently from trying to suppress the emotions clearly welling within him, while Soren was failing at keeping his own in check and encouraging his friend to let it out. Taking a relaxing breath he leaned over Yami much like Soren was, his other arm still hooked behind the young man's neck. Crimson eyes snapped and stared up at him, unable to hold back the emotional and physical pain he was obviously enduring. Holding Yami's bandaged hand to his torso he murmured out in agreement with Soren, "Just let it out Yami, bottling things up won't help you."

Hearing the mirrored words of one of the last conversations he had with his father Yami curled up on his right side, relinquishing the barrier he was trying to create and allowed his tears to fall, quietly sobbing out the heavy grief weighing on his heart. The small comfort of Bakura and Soren surrounding him and holding him as tightly as they could gave him the protection and support he needed. Their arms holding him and their bodies pressing against him reminded him that he was not alone, even though all that was running through his mind was that very thought. He was all that was left of his family, his parents were gone and his home was in ashes. He could feel his world crumbling in that moment, and he let it, almost soundlessly crying as the bricks disintegrated and crashed around him. Allowing himself to feel this for a single moment, knowing in the back of his mind that there was still a few people left in this world to live for, to love and that loved him back.

He could hear the two friends sobbing, it was a faint sound in his ears compared to the intense pounding of Yami's heart as his head rested against the young EMT's shoulder. He would never vocally admit it, but he could feel his own cold tears cascading down his cheeks, letting go for a moment to grieve for one of the best men he had ever known, knowing that he wasn't doing it alone gave him the comfort to do it. His heart was throbbing, chest tight from the grief and being surrounded by such raw emotions. Giving what little comfort he could he held Yami as tightly as he could without damaging him, rubbing the heaving side and protecting him as much as he could.

Bakura did not know how long they remained like that, but it seemed to relieve some of the tension within the room. Breathing far easier and listening to Yami's heartbeat slow he stiffly straightened up, Soren doing the same on the other side of the bed. All three lazily wiped the tears from their cheeks and blearily stared at each other, all silent in understanding.

"Thank you," Yami rasped out, voice barely audible from the strain, absently burying himself into the pillow and pulling the sheets tightly around him.

"Anytime Yami," Soren murmured, rubbing Yami's shoulder and smiling comfortingly down at him. "Seriously, don't you dare hold anything in this time, if you need anything don't hesitate to ask."

He tried to smile, but the movement was stopped from another harsh coughing fit, the strain from sobbing racking his chest. Tensing against the pain he breathed roughly through the onslaught of pain, grateful from the two sets of hands rubbing and soothing his chest and back. Glancing between the two he murmured out, "What the hell am I going to do… everything's gone…"

"Dad went by the house earlier," Soren stated. "He said that we got there early enough that some of it is salvageable, but not much. As soon as you are out of the hospital we will start trying to get what is saveable. But, I don't know Yami, you could probably stay with my parents, or with Abby and me, or Crissy and Russell."

Sadly Yami shook his head, "I can't burden all of you, like the doctor said I cant be left alone for long periods of time after I am released, all of you live hectic lives, I don't want you to drop everything for me."

"Yami, you are practically family," Soren reminded, gripping Yami's hands fervently. "We will do anything for you, none of it will be a burden either, we all care about you way too much."

With a split second decision, and not a regret voicing it, Bakura burst out, "He can stay with me, Grey and I could easily work the case from home and be constantly there for him. It's just my uncle and I there, and he's going to be up at the Rigs till December. It's a big house, it does get kind of lonesome there sometimes on my own, I wouldn't mind the company."

Both stared up at him in shock, Soren's eyes wide as saucers and mouth agape, "Are you sure?"

Giving a nod Bakura smiled nervously at them, "That way, he won't be feeling like he is burdening you, but you and your family can constantly check up on him. And, like I said, Grey and I can work the case from home, that way he'll never be left alone. It's a four-bedroom house, and aside from when my Uncle is home from the Rigs, I'm in it alone. The company would be good, and at the same time it's a large enough home that we could still have our own space. I don't mind the idea of taking care of , cant be that hard to laugh at someone that's bedridden."

Soren couldn't resist a small giggle at the harsh glare Yami gave Bakura, stifling a vociferous laugh he gave Bakura an appreciative nod, "Sounds good, so long as you are certain you will be able to handle him, his temper is frightening."

"I don't seem to be getting much of a say in this," Yami grumbled, glancing between the two.

"Nope," came the unanimous response.

"Do I have to ask for permission to sleep," murmured Yami teasingly after yawning. He could feel exhaustion rapidly sweeping over him. It was his body's natural reaction to the emotional and physical trauma, along with the extensive blood loss he had endured.

"After a few questions," Bakura said, arms crossing over his torso. "I know you may not remember everything, or may not want to talk about it yet, but I am required to ask, you know that. One, what happened? Two, who do you think the body may be that was found in your basement. Three, could you identify your attackers in a photo line up."

Soren narrowed his eyes, protectiveness surging through him, "Is that honestly necessary?"

"It is," Yami said quietly, giving Soren's hand a reassuring squeeze, though reluctance was clearly radiating from him. "Five men broke into the house through the basement, they were looking for Dad…and obviously knew I was going to be there. I…I think they were hoping that I was going to be their ticket to him…and obviously I was…even though I refused to say anything…he came home alone anyway…"

Seeing the young EMT's chest begin to heave Bakura gripped his hand, "Take it slow… remember, your are not to blame for this, there was nothing you could have done."

Giving a slow nod Yami continued, voice strained in an attempt to hold back the fresh emotions welling within him, "The person in the basement was one of the men that broke in. Reno knocked him down the stairs, I think I heard his neck break, or at least his head hitting the bottom. They believed him to be dead, so they left him down there I guess. And yes, I could identify them, they did not try to cover their faces, and a few of them had very idiosyncratic scars, tattoos or features. Besides, I did fight back, they will have some distinctive injuries."

"That's all I want you to say for now," murmured Bakura, smiling kindly, watching Yami's eyes slowly drifting shut as he was rapidly failing the battle to stay awake. "Get some rest."

"Kay," Yami said somnolently, dropping rather suddenly back into a deep slumber, breathing evening out and eyes closing almost the instant the word passed his lips.

Scowling Bakura quirked a brow at Soren inquisitively, "Is that normal…he doesn't exactly pass me as the type that sleeps easily."

Sighing Soren nodded, "Its normal considering the trauma he's been through, and the amount of blood he lost. It's the body's natural reaction to it, and it enables it to heal more efficiently. He's going to be exhausted for a while, all he probably going to do for the next two or three months is sleep, eat, and lounge around, along with some physiotherapy. Unless he heals really fast, he's not going to be allowed back to work till New Years."

"Understandable."

"The other's should be back soon, hopefully they got food or you and I will have to go get some."

"Hungry I take it," Bakura laughed.

Soren grinned wickedly, "You will learn fast that I eat constantly, and have been labelled a caffeine addict."

Laughing Bakura sat back down in his chair, shaking his head at the young man, "Don't worry, Grey and I aren't much different."

**A/N:** _Sorry again for the slow update…hopefully the next chappie wont take as long…._


	5. Chapter 5

SILHOUETTE

_**A/N:**__ *bows down* I am really really sorry for how long this update took….please forgive me. _

_So…one of the reason this update took so long…I was planning the story out ^^ It'll be about 18 chapters, unless I decide to combine a few of the chapters…will have to see how long they get…or short they end up being…The other reason…I changed how I wanted this chapter to be halfway through writing it ^^; ... I have also been working lots and am now helping coach a community soccer league team with my Dad, so that's been taking up a lot of my time. So um….please don't kill me…especially if you want the next chapter, lol._

_Also, sorry again for the typos in the last chapter…I was in a rush…feeling pretty guilty for not getting the last chapter up fast, so when it was done I just put it up and didn't even go through it to fix the extensive amount of typos and grammatical errors that there was. Anyway, onward with the chapter, hope you all enjoy ^^ And, thank you to Toxic Hathor, tavia454, Junki, yami yasi, dragonlady222, Yuko6754, for the reviews, they mean the world to me, and like I said before, are making me really love the fact that I am writing again. Thanks, and enjoy the chapter. _

**CHAPTER FIVE**

Soren had been correct in his statement. Never before in his entire life had Bakura ever seen someone sleep so much. Aside from the periodic half hour to hour-long time periods that Yami managed to stay alert for, he slept. And, when the young man was awake, he barely spoke and was extremely incoherent. Everyone there knew the reasons; even through the high levels of morphine being injected into his system Yami was in unbearable amounts of pain, along with being grief stricken. He was physically and emotionally damaged, he did not have to vocalize it for it to be apparent. Thankfully all the funeral preparations were given to Jack and the clearing of the house was left to Soren's family and any other police officers that volunteered their assistance in their free time. It was clear that mentally Yami could not handle much, trying to give a full statement later as to what happened had exhausted him to the point where he ended up sleeping well over twelve hours, the group could not imagine the concept of him trying to arrange the funeral with that image in mind.

The body of the one attacker was still without an identity, and thus far, none of the results from the destroyed house had come back yet. All they could tell so far was what Yami had told them. The Caduceus case was much the same, aside from the immediately determinable; there was nothing the forensic team had been able to find aside from all the doctors and nurses fingerprints and confirming that the copious amount of blood belonged entirely to the victim, no trace of the killer had been found yet.

The only time Bakura left the hospital was to help move the saveable items from Yami's home to his. The discouraging number of boxes was disheartening. Aside from the many fire proof boxes containing valuable family heirlooms, documents, and expensive jewellery not much survived the flames. Some clothing was salvable, along with a guitar and many paintings and drawings. Anything else was covered in kerosene or was damaged by smoke, flames and water. Thankfully, Bakura had kept a good portion of the clothes that he had grown out of and that Soren's parents knew Yami's size and style well enough to buy a few sets of clothes for him to have until he could go out and do it himself.

No one had been exactly thrilled when the funeral home refused to wait a few days after Yami was released from the hospital to have the service, the only day they allowed was the day Yami was being released. Even after several tempers were pushed to their limits and a certain detective had to be restrained, they finally accepted the date and hurriedly made all the needed arrangements.

The morning had been strenuous on its own long before the funeral; final arrangements had to be made, they had to not only help Yami out of the hospital but also into his paramedic dress uniform, during this time they found out the hard way how limited Yami's mobility was making the task far more difficult than expected. The young EMT was exhausted long before they even left the hospital to leave for the church for the immense service, his painkillers were barely diminishing the pain and the cold weather was not helping either of those things. Bakura was amazed at how well Yami had managed to hold himself together through the funeral, breaking down finally when the bagpipe sang as they handed the folded flag to him and the coffin was carried away. It was the first time Bakura had ever laughed in a funeral, but was thankful for the humorous memories that Soren's family shared along with many others, it was the peace that probably enabled Yami to keep himself composed for so long.

Thankfully Yami had slept for the nearly hour long commute to Bakura's home in the outer community of Springbank on the far west side of the city. Bakura was also thankful for the fact that all the individuals that were with him now in the vehicle had already seen the home he shared with his uncle and had already skirted around the awkward moment of explaining how he lived in this district, and how he lived in such a large home. Yami was going to be a different story, but hopefully he would be far too incoherent to question it right away. And by the looks of how deeply asleep the young EMT was in the backseat of the large SUV, he assumed he would get his wish.

Pulling into the driveway and up into the garage Bakura gently stopped the SUV as gently and quietly as he could, turning off the ignition he turned in his seat to glance back at Soren, Jack and Elenor. They gave him small smiles of assurance, warding off his concern for their mental state; all three had been wrecks at the funeral, something that did not surprise anyone. Grey was already out of the vehicle and opening the one of the doors so Jack and Elenor could get out and he could clamber back to help Soren wake up Yami and get the young man as smoothly as possible out of the SUV.

Handing the keys off to Jack and Elenor Bakura clambered into the back of the vehicle, sighing softly while taking in Yami's image. He was completely cocooned in several blankets, uniform having been taken off in the church he was dressed in thick fleece pyjamas, but even through that he was still shivering and the only colour in his skin was the flush on his cheeks. His expression was far from peaceful, painkillers had started to wear off back at the church and he was nearly an hour over due his next dose. Hid breathing was ragged, short and shallow, obviously to minimize the pain the expansion of his chest was causing. Seeing this he was glad that they had put him in the seat closest to the door.

"I'm going to carry him in," Soren stated quietly "He's too tired to make the walk in. Bakura, can you get the couch ready…Grey, can you help me get Yami on my back, please?"

"Sure," Grey nodded.

"Yep," Bakura murmured, manoeuvring out of the car and reluctantly going into the house. Pulling off his shoes and jacket he walked heavy footed out into the large open main floor, absently catching Jack and Elenor already beginning to make some supper and tea. Exchanging small smiles and a wave with them he went about rapidly gathering all the blankets and extra pillows he could find in the two guest rooms in the home. Going to the large plush sectional couch in his living room he dropped the blankets and pillows on the floor, going about quickly putting one of the pillows and blankets on it and making sure that the pile of blankets was out of the way enough that Grey and Soren would not trip on them.

As he moved to shove some logs of wood into the fireplace to bring some heat into the house Grey and Soren finally came inside, a half conscious and uncomfortable Yami on Grey's back. The taller detective clearly having an easier time managing Yami than Soren, whom was not much taller than the young EMT. Dropping what he was doing Bakura dashed to aid the two in laying Yami down on the couch. He was glad now that his uncle had purchased such a large and extremely wide couch, its width was almost equal to that of a twin size bed, and considering it was a sectional it easily fit four or five people laying down, it was the perfect place for Yami to rest for now until he was well enough to move around on his own. And, it would make getting Yami onto it much easier too.

With Bakura and Soren at his sides to keep him steady Grey knelt down in front of the part of the couch closest to the fireplace. Shuffling back and cringing through the small pained noises Yami made with his motions, grateful when Yami's backside finally slid onto the couch so he was in a sitting position. Immediately Bakura and Soren were able to rotate him till he was lying down, as soon as he was comfortable Soren tightly covered him up with all the blankets and put one of the extra pillows under his knees while Bakura and Grey went about finishing getting a fire going.

The thick aroma of the homemade soup and tea filled the house quickly, along with the heat from them and the fireplace. It was a small instant comfort that wafted throughout the immense main floor of the home, everyone sat in compatible silence waiting for the food and warming up from the bitter cold outside while Elenor finished making supper. Bakura and Jack were quickly gathering up some utensils, large cups, and some bowls and setting them out on the counter for when the food and tea were done. Most of their attention was focused on Grey and Soren whom were trying to get Yami to relax in order to reduce the agony he was in until they could get him to eat and take his painkillers. It wasn't working very well, Yami was doing his body's natural defence and reaction against unbearable amounts of pain, tensing every muscle in him and breathing as shallow as possible.

"As soon as you eat you can take your painkillers and sleep," Soren assured, gently rubbing Yami's arm and shoulder, trying to give him a comforting smile.

Yami glared up at him blearily, his eyes squinting against the pain. He had never been in this much pain before in his life, this was ten times more severe than when he and Soren had been mugged a few years ago. He did not know what to do to stop it, and he knew by the churning of his stomach just from the smell of the food that having to eat before he was allowed to take his painkillers was not going to help him. All the painkillers really did was take the edge off enough so he could sleep, but he could still feel every stitch, bruise and all the repairs done internally. Trying hard not to show how much agony he was in hadn't worked, all those around him could tell even without him giving any real signs. He felt sick to his stomach, the internal damage from not only the bullet but from the beating he took from the metal bar made trying to rationalize a pleasant way of food going down nearly impossible. Why did they have to give him painkillers that required him to have food in his stomach when he had such extensive abdominal injuries, he would much rather still have the IV and morphine drip hooked up to him than having to force food into him along with a rather disgusting tasting pill.

"I'm so nauseous Soren," he stated weakly. "How the hell do you expect me to eat and be able to keep it down."

Sighing Soren scowled, though any conviction in his voice and anger in his eyes was absent, "I expect you to try. The doctors said that if you couldn't hold food down for the next few days that you will be hospitalized again, do you honestly want that?"

Growling inaudibly Yami closed his eyes, "It's tempting…sort of."

"Only because of the morphine and IV right," Grey said, receiving a short glare from Yami the detective shook his head. "You know that those wont sustain you, besides, I'm sure you would go insane if you had to spend another day in there."

"I know," Yami groaned, cocooning himself further with the blankets. "Just don't know how well the food is going to stay down… my gut is doing somersaults."

Rubbing his temple Soren reached out and snatched the bottle of pills from one of the end tables, reading the label he sighed with relief, "Well, if it's any comfort, you don't have to eat much, just have a minimal amount in you so that it absorbs the harmful part of the painkiller and doesn't irritate your gallbladder and intestines. And, to make it easier to swallow, it's supposed to be mixed in with your food…or halved."

Somewhat reassured by that Yami muttered, "Good."

"Suppers ready," Elenor called out from the kitchen. "Soren, help Yami sit up, we will bring the food down into the living room. Better off eating together than leaving you and Yami alone down here while the rest of us are at the table."

"Yes Mum," said Soren, whom had already moved to helping Yami roll over onto his back and slowly ease up into a sitting position, shoving pillows behind his back so he could remain propped up without the need to exert himself.

Bowls of steaming homemade soup handed out to everyone Elenor shooed Soren away to eat and sat on the edge of the couch beside Yami. She did not even give the young man warning nor did she ask for permission before taking a firm hold of the bowl in Yami's shaking hands. Giving the young man a warning glare as she noticed he was about to protest she stated firmly, "I am helping you with this young man, so either you accept it or I will feed you myself, at least I am still letting you put it in your mouth on your own."

Yami scowled slightly, knowing that there was no use in arguing he remained silent, even through his very bruised pride he was thankful that she was lending a hand he was having a pathetically hard time keeping the bowl still never mind trying to eat. Suppressing the nausea he gratefully took his time eating the delectable and thankfully very broth heavy soup. Elenor had always been an amazing cook, and the soup was exactly what everyone needed, especially Yami. It was warm, savoury and outstandingly tasty. Though, unfortunately, Yami found it hard to get through much more than half of the soup before his stomach revolted. Ignoring the sympathetic stares he was receiving he tried to fight back the overwhelming urge to lose what he just ate along with chucking back a gulp of water and the two painkillers. Knowingly Elenor removed the pillows that were propping him up and allowed him to lie on his right side again.

Elenor ran her fingers delicately through Yami's hair, pleased when the motherly affection seemed to calm him and enable him to relax even more, "We should probably go home honey, let you rest," she murmured, reluctance in her soft Irish accented voice.

"Thank you for staying," Yami murmured, his eyes filled with gratefulness. "For everything."

Standing up Jack strode across the living room and kneeling down ruffled Yami hair affectionately and smiled at him, his voice holding the same Irish accent as Elenor just his voice did not hold the same softness, "You're family Yami, even if you really aren't, we'll do anything for you."

"Now, get some rest," Elenor said sternly while standing up, giving Yami a firm look. "We will be checking up on you, along with Soren, and Bakura promised to make sure you do exactly as the doctor commanded and to tell us if you do otherwise."

"Trust me, Mrs. Drayven, I doubt I will be moving very far from this couch for a while," Yami assured with a smile pointing at his chest.

"Good, now go to sleep before I take a sledge hammer to your head," Jack warned, gently urging Elenor to the back door.

"I'll drive you two home, your house is close to mine and my cars here," Grey said, quickly gathering his jacket and heading to the backdoor, Bakura quietly following behind him. "Let Kura' stay here and give Soren backup if Yami decides to get up."

"Thank you Grey," the couple murmured.

"No problem, besides, I want to tuck my kids into bed tonight, haven't been able to do so in a while."

Leaning against a wall Bakura watched Grey, Elenor and Jack begin to walk out into the front porch, cold wind and snow entering the warm house from the open door. Holding back a shiver he crossed his arms over his chest to ward off the cold, "Drive safe Grey, I'll see you tomorrow."

All three stopped and turned back, Grey nodded, "Yeah, I'll se you tomorrow, hopefully they start lugging all the case stuff over here tomorrow."

Bakura nodded, "Hopefully."

"Um, Bakura," Elenor interjected, continuing when Bakura turned his attention to her. "Thank you, for taking Yami in. I mean, we would have taken him without a thought, but we would not have been able to give him the round the clock care he's going to need, not with how all of our schedules are."

Waving his hand to silence her Bakura smiled, "No need to thank me, I wouldn't feel right not offering my home to someone in need, especially someone whom I am already considering a good friend."

Wrapping an arm around his wife's shoulders Jack smiled appreciatively, "Either way, we're grateful for you doing this. Yami may as well be a nephew to us, we have known his mother since the plane ride here that the three of us took to come here and go to university. He's very important to us, and we would not have been able to give him the care he needs, but you can and you are. So thank you, from the bottom of our hearts."

Swallowing hard Bakura scratched the back of his neck, he had never felt so awkward and bashful in his life, "Um, your welcome."

The shrill ring of both Bakura and Grey's pagers broke the moment, both detective instinctively reached down and wrenched the out of the holders clipped to their belts their faces immediately turning stunned as they read the message. Jack and Elenor glanced between the two blinking in unison as the two detectives silently cursed and shoved the pagers back in their pouches.

"What's wrong," Jack pressed, reading the angered expressions crossing both men's face.

Trying not to punch out the nearest wall Bakura wrenched his jacket and a pair of shoes from the front closet, "They found another victim," he whispered, hoping that the pair inside the house did not hear.

"What!?" came the dual cries within from Soren and Yami.

Grey and Bakura cringed, reluctantly Bakura turned back and slowly nodded his head in confirmation, "We have to go to the scene, I'll be back home as fast as I can, and I'll have my cell phone with me if you need anything."

Shaking his head in disbelief Soren instinctively went and sat with Yami, almost protectively blocking him from the outside world, "Alright, um, drive safe."

"Not making any promises," Bakura grumbled, giving the two a wave good-bye before abruptly closing the door and locking it. Grey was already ushering Jack and Elenor into his car by the time Bakura had clambered down the porch and to the driveway, heading to his own vehicle he called out before barrelling into it. "I'll take my own car, will meet you there."

"Alright, don't speed too much," Grey advised, his voice serious. Bakura did not even hear him, he already had his door slammed and engine ignited before Grey could even blink. Shaking his head he pulled on his seat belt while watching Bakura speed out of the driveway and down the street. "You better get there in one piece you stupid hot head."

Bakura was in such a blind rage that he was shocked that he made it to the scene in one piece and with no speeding tickets. Parking he glared at the scene before him, several cop cars were out in front of the house while the officers were blocking off the entrance to it from the rapidly gathering crowd via police tape. Scowling he took a cleansing breath before gathering his gun and badge and climbing out of his vehicle into the rapidly worsening weather. Pulling his jacket tightly around him he ran into the house, flashing his badge when needed to the officers. Stumbling into the warmth of the house he nearly dashed right back out as the rank stench of blood, decomposition and ruptured organs filled his nostrils. Gagging he switched to breathing primarily through his mouth and took a quick look around while waiting for Grey's arrival, assessing the scene and ignoring the forensics team and the medical examiner.

The lock had been tampered with, when he tried to lock it and re-close the door it merely rattle and jiggled, the screws clearly lose along with the actual lock mechanism within the doorknob. The main floor of the house seemed to be unaffected by the crime, there was no blood and out of what he could see along with no footprints or anything of the sort. Odd, considering how terrible the weather was outside, and any footprints outside would have either been covered by the freshly fallen snow, or by people walking around outside.

Without needing to be directed Bakura followed the smell upstairs into the master bedroom instantly finding the body along with the medical examiner waiting to give him a report. Repressing his want to lose his dinner Bakura stepped up to the side of the bed russet eyes wandering over the victims body. This one was female, blonde and seeming to be in her mid to late thirties. She was tied down and gagged, the same gaping wound clear on her torso, and much to Bakura's dismay the Paramedics symbol was etched on her abdomen. She had obviously been here for a few days. Her bodily fluids had already been partially expunged from her, soaking the bed beneath her still somewhat bloated body. Parts of her skin were already beginning to blacken while the rest was at an oddly creamy consistency in appearance, and her open eyes were sunken and beginning to fade in colour. Judging by the extreme heat in the house from the heater blaring loudly it had increased the time of decomposition, she had probably been dead five to seven days.

Hearing footsteps he glanced back to see Grey enter the room, "It's the Paramedics symbol again," he murmured, crossing his arms.

"How long has she been here doc?" Grey questioned glancing at the medical examiner.

"With the extreme heat in this house, along with her liver temperature, and the fact that there has been nor airflow via that there is no windows open…seven day," he expounded. "I'd place time of death on November the fourth early in the afternoon."

"Yami was attacked the night before, November third," Bakura said thoughtfully.

"Yami said he wasn't there though…so he definitely had time, and a cover, to do this killing and then have some time to lay low before we'd find the body. At this stage of decomp. there will be nothing that we can pull off the body DNA wise, nothing that hasn't been completely contaminated with her fluids, he's smart," Grey added.

"Bastard," the young detective cursed, viciously scrubbing his hand through his hair. "He's used the attack on Yami completely to his advantage. We were distracted long enough that the body would decompose, and he probably set all the thermostats on high, it got rid of Garret and it gave him time to plan his next move without any distractions or pressure."

Uncomfortably the medical examiner coughed to gain their attention, "I had better get her to the morgue so I can begin the autopsy, would you mind fetching my team for me?"

"Certainly," Grey said exiting the room, Bakura behind him. "Call us when you are done with the autopsy."

After calling up the ME's team the two detectives went and sat in Bakura's SUV, trying to keep warm and rid themselves of the awful stench of the house. Bakura slouched in his seat, hands covering his eyes with an exasperated sigh, "Aside from him obviously breaking into the house through the front door and the body, there is no evidence of him being there, just like all of the other scenes. Unless the forensic team finds something microscopic, we have nothing but another body."

Resting his head against the window Grey scowled deeply, "We're running out of time. He's sped up, just like you said, he'll be done his spree and moving on to Yami before we can even blink."

The sensation of his phone vibrating and quietly ringing in his pocket jerked Bakura upright. Reaching into his pocket he retrieved said item and stared at the number, it was his house, "Speak of the devil, or maybe its Soren, wonder why they're calling already we've barely been out of the house for an hour."

Grey shrugged, "Don't know, answer it."

Flipping the phone open Bakura pressed it to his ear, "What do you want trouble."

"_For you to get your ass home now!"_

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After having pepto bismal forced into his unwilling mouth, along with cup after cup of steaming soothing tea Yami heaved a sigh of relief when Soren finally was satisfied that he was relaxed enough that he could leave him with his tea and go clean the dishes. Melting into the couch Yami watched Soren toss some logs on the fire to keep it blazing and the dishes into the dishwasher and wash the single pot Elenor used to make the soup. Staving off the exhaustion that had been rapidly creeping over him for the last hour he slowly sipped at his tea turning his attention to the gathering blizzard outside.

From the kitchen over the sound of the faucet being turned off and a wet pot being placed in the adjacent sink Soren suggested quietly, "You should probably try and sleep Yami, it's been hard day especially for you." Blinking Yami lifted his gaze and tracked Soren as his best friend returned to the living room and sat down beside him on the couch, dark green eyes staring intently at him. "You can easily wait till the morning to hear about the victim."

Sighing softly Yami adjusted his bandaged hand around the cup shifting most of the weight into his good hand, "No, I want to wait till he gets home, and for more reasons than just wanting to hear about the victim."

"How bout I wake you when he gets here, they could be a while at the scene," Soren pushed, frustrated as his attempts to urge Yami away from this fascination with the Caduceus Killer were failing. "Besides, you can barely keep your eyes open."

Narrowing his eyes Yami took a long drink of his tea, gaze never leaving Soren's face. "You are such a mother hen."

Chuckling Soren grinned at him, "I'm allowed to be, besides, you know I'm right."

Exhaling dramatically in defeat Yami downed the rest of his tea, letting Soren take the cup he tentatively eased himself back down so he was laying on his side again staring across at the large bay window. Swatting Soren playfully and allowing a small laugh to escape him as Soren teasingly went to tuck the blankets around him with a devious smirk. "Let me be you bastard, do you want me to sleep or not."

Sticking out his tongue Soren flicked off all the lights but two of the lamps in the living room and plopped down in the part of the sectional adjacent to where Yami was. Pulling a blanket over his legs he smiled, "You like being babied, just admit to it."

"I hate it and you know it," Yami scoffed, cocooning himself in the thick blanket.

Grining Soren peered around for the remote control to the TV, finding it he relaxed into the plush couch and turned his attention to the large TV above the fireplace, "Just teasing Yami." Clicking the button he watched the TV flicker on before a loud bang resonated through the house and all the power switched off. Stunned Soren dropped the remote and stood upright, heart racing in his throat from shock before he mentally slapped himself at his childish reaction. Through the light of the fire he could see Yami snickering at him, scowling he lightly threw a nearby pillow at him while striding into the kitchen. "Well, Bakura's going to be happy when he sees that the lovely blizzard outside blew the power lines."

Shaking his head Yami snuggled even further into the soft couch, garnet eyes wandering to look out the window again at the blur of white snow being tossed about by the bitter wind completely obscured his view of anything beyond the front porch. Absently listening to Soren rummage about for flashlights or candles and the roar of the wind outside he continued to stare out the window. Then, something caught his attention through the sheets of white snow. Squinting he eased himself up onto one elbow, narrowing his eyes when he finally focused on what it was. Someone was walking up onto the porch; they were thickly garbed in black winter gear and a balaclava. As the figure moved through the harsh wind Yami began to recognize the silhouette of the man. In disbelief he shook his head, trying to convince himself that it was his imagination playing tricks on him and that it was merely a next-door neighbour coming to see if they weren't the only ones without power.

"Hey Soren, someone's on the porch," he called out.

Looking up from the drawer he was rummaging through Soren caught sight of the darkly dressed man standing on the front porch. The man merely stood in front of the window, didn't knock on the door or wave in at them to signal that he wanted in, he simply stood and stared in at them through the small slits in his balaclava. Like Yami the man's silhouette struck Soren as familiar, pondering for a moment he searched through his recent memories to rack his brain as to where he remembered seeing this persons shape, then it clicked at the exact instant it did for Yami.

Mouth falling agape in stunned fear Yami stared at the now clear pair of ghostly snake green eyes that had been haunting him for the past week. He could feel his body beginning to shiver as cold terror gripped and pulled at him, the memories of that night filling his head and overwhelming him with fear. Breath hitching in his chest he sat bolt upright, eyes widening as the man tantalizingly lifted the balaclava revealing a pearly white devilish grin that turn his blood cold and sent a violent shiver up his spine, and pale skin rivalling that of a bitter snow outside. Feeling defenceless and afraid Yami scrambled as best he could to his feet, hissing at the sharp waves of pain it caused him he limped slowly into the kitchen while detangling himself from the blanket. Soren dashing out to protectively wrap his arms around him and aid him behind the granite island counters, both trembling fiercely in fear, unable to wrench their gazes away from the eerie grin and acid green eyes.

The bone chilling cackle that sliced through the howl of the wind outside snapped Soren out of his frightened trance. Reaching out and grabbing hold of one of the nearby phones he frantically dialled Bakura's number, screaming out at the intruder while impatiently waiting for the detective to answer, "Get the fuck away from here you sick prick!"

Yami and Soren both let out a fearful gasp when the killer wound out a clenched fist and viciously punched the window, cracking it through the sheer force and freezing temperatures outside. Both stared at him in stunned silence as he laughed again, causing both to shudder in horror.

"What do you want trouble?" Bakura's voice demanded playfully through the phone, gripping hold of the two friends attention.

"For you to get your ass home now!" Soren bellowed, cringing when the killer punched the window again creating an even larger crack. "The Caduceus Killer's here, he's trying to break in, and the powers out."

"What?!"

"For crying out loud Bakura get your ass home, he's trying to break the front window!"

"_Shit! Be there in less than ten…hold on Soren, don't you dare let that disgusting prick anywhere near Yami_!"

"Planning on it," Soren assured, clicking the phone off and tossing it aside. Immediately he could feel Yami swaying against him, looking down he gulped, Yami's skin rapidly paling and his eyes loosing focus.

"Soren, the stitches …." Yami gasped out, pressing his hands over the two incisions on his chest and stomach. Both felt like they were being ripped and stretched out of place. He knew that surgeons for the sheer fact that the stitches are holding the incision together heavily protest against moving rapidly until the scab begins to heal and is replaced with new skin cells. In his stunned and fearful state the thought of ripping the incision open hadn't even occurred to him, he hadn't even felt any of the tearing until he had relaxed a bit with the comfort of being beside Soren and behind the counter. Now that he knew his rapid movements had caused some damage he was greatly regretting his split second decision to get up from the couch.

Cursing Soren cringed again at the vehement sound of the killer's fist ramming into the glass and his deep laughter outside. Without a thought he eased Yami into a sitting position on the tile floor, not letting go he unbuttoned the pyjama shirt and lightly ran his hand over the bandages swearing colourfully when his fingers met a small amount of a hot thick liquid. Getting Yami to rest his back against the lower cupboards Soren sat beside him, "Hold on bud, Grey and Bakura will be here any minute."

Yami barely heard him through the pained fog he was in and the noise the killer was creating. Covering the spot on his chest were the bullet hit him Yami hunched over willing himself to breathe through the burning agony, his body tensing every time the killer's fist slammed against the window. Staring at the floor his vision began to wane, blurring and distorting the tile and his feet, mentally cursing he tried to fight off his body's want to fall into unconsciousness.

Soren's gentle hand running over his face and the bright flash of headlights jerked him from passing out, the pounding and laughter outside suddenly stopped. Blinking blearily he stared up at Soren, his friends smile of relief slowly eradicating the fear from his mind, "He ran off Yami… Bakura and Grey pulling into the driveway scared him off, we're safe."

Taking short pained breaths Yami forced a smile, "Thank God."

Bakura and Grey barrelling into the house startled the two EMT's out of their moment of solace. Both detective had their guns drawn, Bakura staying out of the porch to try and see where the killer ran off to while Grey dashed to where they were hiding.

Kneeling down Grey checked them both over with his eyes, seeing Yami in the state he was in he said, "Please don't tell me that you moved yourself here." Receiving a slow nod from Soren and Yami's pained grimace he shook his head hand immediately darting out to part the buttoned up pj shirt. Eyes catching sight of a miniscule amount of red blood seeping through the bandages he bit his lip. "I hope you didn't rip them out. Let's get you to the couch, Soren go get the first aid kit from the bathroom, Bakura get in here and help me!"

Bakura was there in an instant, anger thrust aside he helped lift Yami as carefully as possibly and carry him back to the couch. Once the two had him sitting on the couch Grey went about removing the young man's shirt and the bandages, glad that they needed to change them soon anyway. Soren was back with them quickly, putting the first aid kit on the floor and assisting Grey in removing the bandages while Bakura held Yami up right.

Discarding the old bandages Grey assessed the damaged with the penlight from the first aid kit, all heaving large sighs of relief to see that the stitches were still intact, the incision was just bleeding minimally from small cracks in the scab something that the doctor had warned them may happen for a week or so. Re-applying the sterile gauze and then the tensor bandage as gently as possible Grey sat back on his hunches and stared up at Yami's pale face. "Are you two alright?"

"Scared," Soren admitted, wiping away the sweat that had formed on his brow. "But alright."

"Yami?" Bakura pressed, gently squeezing the EMT's trembling clammy hand. "How bout you?"

Garnet eyes drifted between the three, pain and fear radiating within them, "I don't know," Yami murmured, voice soft. "Still can't think straight…"

Striding over to the window quietly examined the damage done, digits running over the smooth glass inside but gaze locked on the cracks on the outside. The damage was not enough to completely break the window, not with a bare fist as Soren said the killer was doing, "He must doing this for intimidation purposes only, or a scare tactic. I don't think he wanted in here, he probably knew that Bakura and I were a short drive away looking at his latest victim."

"Why would he even come here?" questioned Yami, tightly wrapping a blanket around himself.

Grey, Bakura and Soren exchanged a small look before their attentions locked on Yami, "Well, you two probably pissed him off the other day, he may have needed to boost his ego a little bit," Bakura murmured with a shrug of his shoulders, avoiding the total truth but not lying.

"Are you two sure it was him," Grey pressed.

"Yes," Yami said hoarsely. "His eyes, his body shape, his laugh…. they were all the same."

Growling Bakura slammed his hand against the floor, "Dammit!"

"How the hell did he find us here?" Soren demanded. "There is no way he could have known where we were going to be."

"Unless he's been around the hospital," Grey said.

Stunned Yami stared at Grey with utter disbelief, "The hospital…stalking us just to do one twenty minute stint of a scare tactic…I highly doubt that he would go through that much trouble to bang on a window and laugh."

Standing up from his seat on the couch Bakura began to pace the living room, "You're probably right. Grey, can you stay the night? I know you have a family at home but, encase he comes back I'm going to need your backup."

Not hesitating Grey gave a firm nod, removing his jacket and shoving it in the nearby closet he sat down on the couch, "Of course."

"Alright, I think we all should sleep in here tonight, there's enough room on the couches for all of us to be comfortable," Bakura said striding off to another part of the house. "I'll get some more blankets and pillows."

"I'll get the fire going again, it's cold in here," murmured Grey, rising from the couch and striding over to the fireplace.

Briefly watching Grey throw a few logs into the fireplace and go about setting another fire, Soren sighed deeply and ghosted his eyes back to Yami. Seeing Yami's brow furrowed and his gaze fixed on the floor he reached out and gently wrapped an arm around his friend's shoulders, scowling lightly at the obvious tension he could feel in Yami's body, "It's alright Yami, I doubt he's going to come back with Grey and Bakura here."

"Tonight at least," whispered Yami, garnet eyes lifting to Soren's face. "I have a feeling we'll be seeing him again. If he went to those lengths just to come scare us, I doubt that he'll stop there."

Biting his lip Soren exhaled deeply, "I doubt it too, but at least try and relax, there's no way he'll have the balls to come back here tonight."

"Sorry."

"Don't be bud, I know there's more on your mind than your leading on. And, I know that this didn't help you," Soren stated softly. "Just, relax, we'll keep you safe. If it'll give you some comfort, Dad's bringing Reno over tomorrow after work."

With a soft chuckle and a smile Yami murmured, "That is a relief."

"Go to sleep," Bakura chimed in, stumbling back into the living room with a pile of pillows and blankets unevenly balanced in his arms, head peeking around the pile. "You need to relax and recover, and being an awake paranoid mess won't help you do that."

"Alright, alright…I'll sleep. You all are lucky these painkillers knock me out anyway," Yami chuckled, tentatively laying down on the couch, shocked when as soon as his head hit the pillow exhaustion began to sweep over him again.

"We'll wake you in the morning to eat and take your meds," Grey assured, dusting his hands off on his pants and moving away from the fireplace after finally getting a fire going.

"Thank you," murmured Yami, eyes drifting shut rapidly.

The two detectives and Soren watched in amusement as Yami almost instantly dropped into oblivion, fast asleep and completely relaxed in his cocoon of blankets. They all smiled and shook their heads, quickly moving about to turn lights off, thoroughly lock up every door and window, turn on the house alarm and then quietly curl up on the couch.

It didn't take long for Grey and Soren both to join Yami in the abyss of sleep, while Bakura stayed up for a good hour more, mind restless. He could not stop thinking about all the happenings of the day, and when he finally fell asleep, his dreams were filled with the same thoughts and images.

**A/N:** _Sorry again for the long wait….hopefully it was ok – though I will admit I am not happy with this chapter – and was somewhat worth the wait…hopefully the next one wont take as long…._


	6. Chapter 6

SILHOUETTE

_**A/N:**__ Thanks to Toxic Hathor, Junki, kiki2222, Blue September, Yami Yasi for reviewing…again it means a lot to me to hear such positive feedback. And sorry again for how long this took, had some family drama along with work, soccer ending, my boyfriend moving out and my Dads wedding….. finally have some time to relax and write. Been having computer problems too…lets just say my computer got badly infected by a virus that uses an anti-virus program as a cover…the infection was bad enough that it was in every part of my laptop and the stupid thing has to be wiped clean and reformatted. Thus, I have been using my Mom's computer….and she's on it more than I was ever on my laptop….meaning she is only off it when we need to clean, she's working, sleeping, or showering….and I had some problems with the last segment….all of you can thank my amazing boyfriend for the significant amount of help he gave me with it. _

_I hope all of you enjoy the chapter._

_Yami Yasi, if I could hug you right now I would, I know what its like to loose someone dear, she passed away two years ago and it still hurts so much...along with the other three people I've lost in the last couple of years. I hope you like this chapter as much as I did writing it._

**CHAPTER SIX**

He hates depending on people, just as much as he hates being weakened and immobile. There was very little he could do on his own, his mobility was far too limited to allow him to do much without aid, even more private things like showering and going to the bathroom he could not do without Bakura or Soren helping him for the most part. If he blushed any more out of sheer embarrassment he was sure his face would permanently keep that rosy hue that he desperately wanted to burn. He didn't know how much longer he was going to continue to handle the looks of sympathy and guilt that he would see cross the faces of those around him if he moved wrong, when the bandages were switched and the incisions and damage was seen, or when they saw the dark bruises.

He wasn't sleeping as much as before, his dreams were plagued by both run-in's with the killer and the night Garret was murdered. With how violently he was waking up he was surprised that Bakura had yet to notice, and if he did he hadn't mentioned it.

All the case work had been moved into the house over the last four days since the killer had made his appearance, Bakura and Grey had managed to pull several strings to make this happen. The piles of paperwork making the vast kitchen table disappear along with the living room coffee table and a good portion of the kitchen counters. It was a good thing they weren't doing much for cooking, and that they generally sat in the living room near the fire to eat rather than at the table. When Elenor was over to check on him she had to muster up all her will power not to organize the massive stacks of papers, pictures and notebooks in the fashion that she felt was proper.

Yami had yet to bring himself to pour over the copious amount of notes, files, and pictures scattered throughout the house in an organized chaos that only Bakura and Grey seemed to understand. He was afraid to look any further into the damage that the killer could cause, never mind stumbling upon the case file for his father's murder, which was in there somewhere, he did not want to see the pictures. Besides that, he knew that all those around him, especially Bakura, Grey and Soren, were withholding something from him, and he knew all hints to what it is was within those notes. He was itching to read through them, find out what the dark secret was that they were keeping from him, but he was forcing himself to trust them, trust that they are merely waiting for the right time to tell him.

Crimson orbs watched the mesmeric dance of the sparkling snow as the wind tossed and turned it, spinning like lovers in a slow waltz. Much like the past few days the thick bitter snow continued to spiral down, coating the city with its soft white embrace and covering the last evidence of summer and fall. As beautiful of a sight as it was, it was also a reminder to all those around that the year was drawing to a close, and a new one would be taking over, a sign that time was continuing even though some wished it would stand still so the future did not have to be pondered. Even through the intense heat surrounding him from the blazing fireplace and Reno partially laying on him, the bitter cold of winter from outside and the reminder that it was another day where his heart felt empty, void of someone he missed dearly and still hadn't come to grips with no longer being able to see, to touch and to hear, he was freezing.

Absently his fingers gently rolled the silver pendant, gaze glancing down to peer at it. Crissy had found it in one of the many fireproof boxes, kept in a small jewellery box with blue silk. It was the five-fold Celtic symbol for balance between the elements, it was a gift Tawny had received from her mother before coming to Canada with Elenor and Jack, and she rarely took it off. He had thought that it was lost or was left on his mother when she was buried; thankfully that was not the case. Since Crissy had given it to him he had only taken it off to bathe, even then he was reluctant to be parted from it.

Sighing he lifted his gaze to peer across at Bakura, the young detective was sitting on the edge of the couch eyes focused on a stack of pictures that he was slowly shuffling through in the light of the fireplace and the many candles around them, randomly taking notes if something caught his interest. The detective's dark russet eyes were so focused on what he was doing that he did not see Grey enter the living room carrying a heavy tray with three cups of steaming tea, the darkened circles under his eyes amplified by the candle light. Gratefully taking the cup that was handed to him Yami stiffly sat up and watched in amusement as Grey shoved one of the cups in front of Bakura's face, startling his partner to the point where Bakura dropped the pictures he was holding, Grey's laughter ringing out.

"I'm surprised you haven't burned a hole through those pictures yet with how hard you are glaring at them. That stare could easily curdle brand new milk," Grey teased, watching Bakura gather up the pictures before placing the thick stack on the only free spot on the coffee table.

"If only it could do that to your mouth," Bakura grumbled, taking the cup of tea and relaxing back into the couch, silently thankful for the forced break considering he felt as though his head was splitting in two. "Has forensics called yet?"

Shaking his head Grey took a long sip of his tea, "No, they still haven't finished up with cross referencing all the prints from the hospital crime scene. All they have really touched on the new scene was the few prints found in the house and getting the bedding and her clothes ready to be analyzed."

Snarling Bakura gulped back a large mouthful of his tea, ignoring the stunned expression Yami was giving him because of it, "Bloody bastards act like we have all the time in the world to wait, idiots."

"Someone's on edge," Yami stated quietly, slowly taking in the tenseness in Bakura's entire physique.

Lifting his head Bakura peered across at Yami, smiling wryly, "Not at all, I'm just peachy, there's a psycho on the loose and this constant power outage is giving me a headache, so life is just fantastic."

Sighing Yami glared at him, "No need to be snarky."

Heaving a relaxing breath Bakura downed the last of his tea, forcing his racing temper to lessen, "Sorry, just…very frustrated."

Adjusting the cup in his hands to transfer the heat, Yami continued to peer across at Bakura, crimson eyes narrowing, "That's not all that's bothering you, is it?"

Taken aback Bakura quirked a brow at the young EMT, "How do you figure?" he questioned, stunned at the young mans intense perceptiveness, something that even through Soren's warnings he had yet to be able to become used to.

Yami shrugged indifferently, "Just a feeling. Am I wrong?"

Shaking his head Bakura murmured, "No, you're right. I've got a bad feeling, that's all, like something isn't right."

"You're not alone there," Grey stated, hazel eyes watching the steam rise from his tea before directing his attention back to his two comrades. "Been feeling pretty unsettled since I got here this morning."

"Me too," Yami added, eyes drifting to the damage on the front window, the two detectives following his gaze. "Hopefully it's just the events of late influencing our emotions and not our bodies warning us that something is going to happen."

Grunting in agreement Bakura stood up and took his empty cup into the kitchen intent on getting more of the warm relaxing liquid. Peering around at the vast stacks of papers he shuddered, finding the free space on the counter along with the tea pot. "I never realized how avid of a note take I was until now. I hope we catch that prick soon, I need my kitchen back."

Laughing lightly Grey placed his cup on a free part of the coffee table and stretched his arms into the air, glancing to the nearest clock to check the time, arms dropping dramatically in shock. "It's only two in the afternoon…the heck…it feels a lot later."

"You two have been working like dogs all morning," Yami reminded, unable to protest when Bakura came around behind him and took his empty tea cup to go refill it. "Besides, you've been here since six, both of you have already worked almost eight hours straight."

"Well, I vote for break time," Grey yawned, stretching again and standing up. "I'm going to go grab us some food considering there is nothing but the tones and tones of bowls of soup that Elenor brought us. I love soup, don't get me wrong, and I am extremely grateful for her making something very healthy for you to eat Yami…but five days straight of it can make a person sick."

Smiling Yami gratefully took the refilled cup of tea from Bakura, absently watching the detective sit down beside him, "Understandable. I'm sick of the liquid diet I've been forced to abide by."

"So how about a cheat day?" Grey suggested, grabbing his coat, mittens, toque and boots. "I'll go grab some pizza or something for us to chow down."

"Sounds good to me," Bakura grinned.

"Yami?" Grey questioned, unlocking the front door and pulling out the car keys from his pocket. The small smile and nod that he received was all he needed, beaming back at Yami he said. "Cheer up; I'll bring back something sweet too."

Both men watched the door close and Grey stride out into the blizzard, scowling in unison when the wind from outside blew out half the candles in the house. Growling Bakura stood back up and rummaged about quickly in the kitchen to find the lighter, already greatly unsettled by the sheer darkness that swept the room with the loss of the candle light. Going about re-lighting the candles he continually glanced in Yami's direction, eyes narrowing when catching the young man blankly staring at the fire, his still pale hands inattentively fiddling with the pendant around his neck. Finishing lighting the last candle he walked over and sat back down beside Yami, scowl deepening when Yami didn't even acknowledge him.

Yami was beginning to worry him, not only was he being impossibly silent, but he heard him wake up screaming at night and watched him silently cry afterwards, grieving alone. He had also caught Yami not taking his painkillers as often as recommended; too busy laying silently on the couch staring off forlornly at the falling snow outside. Reno was quietly whining at him, far from oblivious to the emotions plaguing his master.

Reaching out he rested his burly hand on Yami's hunched shoulders eyes locking with those deep ruby orbs, catching the glint of pain within them before the familiar shield that he was becoming used to was shoved back up. Exhaling sharply he placed his other hand on Yami's far shoulder, gently encouraging the young man to turn towards him. Seeing the questioning look Yami was giving him he spoke softly, but firmly, "I've heard you the last couple of nights, seen you. You're not alright, no matter how good you think you are at hiding it all of us can see it. You can't do this alone Yami, it's not healthy."

Yami dropped his gaze, shame and melancholy permeating from him, "I was hoping that you hadn't noticed."

"It's hard not to," Bakura said, squeezing Yami's shoulder gently to try and encourage him to look back up. "Don't you dare be ashamed of mourning for him, and don't you dare continue to try and handle this on your own."

Yami grunted, a wry smile crossing his features, "Where I have I heard that before," seeing Bakura's eyes narrowing in bewilderment he continued. "The last conversation I had with Dad was him telling me the exact same thing. He said he'd always be there, that it was his turn to help me."

Cringing in pity Bakura bit his lip, seeing the tears forming in Yami's eyes he murmured, "He will be, not in person, but as an entity guiding you just like your mother has been."

Grunting Yami rested his chin in his hands, gaze drifting to the floor. "Perhaps."

Scowling Bakura gently tried to urge Yami to sit back up, to even just look at him. Meeting only resistance he shook his head in frustration, "Don't talk like that. I can tell by what I have heard about both your parents and seen of your Father that they loved you more than anything. They would never willingly leave you here, and I doubt that they are not watching over you."

"I know that Bakura, I don't need you telling me how they felt!" Yami snapped, ruby eyes flashing. "I know they wouldn't have wanted to leave me here. I know they are right her with me, or watching from heaven. But that does not make the pain or the guilt go away!"

"Guilt?" Bakura stammered, stunned by Yami's out burst but more by that single voiced word.

Shoving Bakura away Yami stiffly stood up, being mindful of his injuries to reduce the pain from the movements. Ignoring Reno's soft whine he strode off to the nearby bathroom, wrenching away from Bakura's insistence hands as the detective tried to keep him there. "I need to be alone," he said, voice breathy and strained, his one hand clutching the pendant around his neck. He did don't want the man's pity, any soft words, or even the harsh ones of worry he could tell were forming in Bakura's mind. He could feel the hot tears beginning to roll down his cheeks before he could stumble into he dark bathroom and slam the door. He had been waiting for this to happy, he knew he could only hold his barriers up for so long before his emotions would overwhelm him and flow over the walls he had built.

Sinking to the floor with the door and counter to guide him he cried not caring that Bakura could hear. The dam had finally broke, his walls washed away by the current of emotions that he had bottled up and been drowning in. He needed to be alone, enveloped in the sorrow and darkness that was surrounding him and creating the vast emptiness within him. He desperately needed to wallow in his own self-loathing, his own anguish, just for this moment. Any time after this he could be strong; he could put on his front, or simply cry in grief. But, right now he needed to feel every bit of heartache, worthlessness and hate that he was feeling. He needed this one moment to let go, to feel.

One the other side of the door Bakura was urgently tying to turn the knob of the presently locked bathroom door, his head filling with images that he hoped Yami would never do but his mind was taunting him with. Vexed beyond belief he called out Yami's name pleading him to come out while his fist pounding on the door. Reno was mirroring his desperation, the dog's thick paws clawing at the door along with barking and whining begging to be let in. Cursing Bakura rested his head and hands against the door, sighing deeply in melancholy at the ragged sobs he could hear being forced from Yami, his chest tightening in sympathy and at his own uselessness in being able to try and comfort the young EMT. Squeezing his eyes shut he bit his lip and reluctantly backed away from the door, ears focusing on the wretched sounds emitting from the room. When his back met one of the nearby walls he finally re-opened his eyes, russet orbs filled with despair locked on the bathroom door.

He was hoping that this wouldn't happen, not this soon at least. He could tell by what he had already observed of Yami's personality was that he was a very hidden person, bottling things up until they could no longer be held back. Unfortunately, he had also noticed that Yami was sensitive in the sense of being an over achiever and a pleaser. He wanted to live up to the standards that everyone set for him, and then go beyond them. Also, he could see that Yami was a guardian, a protector of others, and when he failed to protect he crumbled.

Bakura forcefully slapped his face with both hands berating himself for not preparing for the impending breakdown. In the back of his mind he could remember Soren saying that Yami was still holding onto the shame and guilt from Tawni's passing, beating himself senseless for not coming home sooner, for leaving her alone.

Growling he slammed his fist against the wall, grimacing briefly at the agony it caused before scrubbing said hand through his hair. If Yami had been so devastated and guilt ridden by Tawni's death, a death that he did not witness and had nothing to do with, than what was his reaction going to be when they told him about their theory. On top of that he could not imagine how much more those feelings were already being amplified by the fact that Garret was killed coming home to protect him, and he had witnessed it. Hitting the wall again he gnawed on his lip not noticing when the skin broke and a small trickle of blood oozed down his chin.

"Real slick Bakura, you get him to start opening up then you do that. Here's a prize for being the most brilliant jack ass," he hissed quietly at himself. "Way to learn how not to put your foot in your mouth and be the new master of insensitivity."

All his internal organs practically leapt into his throat at the abruptly shrill ring of his cell phone. Glaring at Reno –whom was giving him the same look- he fumbled for his phone. Wrenching it out of his pocket he flipped it open and answered snappily, "What?!"

"_Don't what me_!" retorted Grey's voice, which was dripping with worry and unease. "_Get your ass downtown to the address I am going to text to you. No, you are not going to like it_."

Hearing the line go dead Bakura glared daggers at his phone. Grumbling he gathered up his stuff. Briefly he stood in front of the bathroom door and whispered, "I'll be right back alright Yami. I promise I won't be long, I'll have my cell with me, don't hesitate to call. And, just…don't do anything rash, please, there's too many people here that still love and care about you, alright?" Reluctantly after being met with only the soft sobs still passing through the door he dashed out of the house yelling back at Reno before slamming the door shut and briskly locking it. "Take care of him mutt, and eat anyone that tries to get in here that you don't know or don't trust…and clean up the evidence!"

The harsh blizzard wind outside hit him like a truck filled with ice. Grasping he bolted to his car, tightly wrapping his half-open jacket around him as he did so. After struggling with the keys he scrambled into the vehicle and roared the ignition, blaring the heating immediately after. Grumbling about Alberta weather and short notice he allowed the windshield wipers to clean off the mounds of snow on both front and back windows before driving off to the address Grey had sent to his phone. His partner's tone on the phone was worrisome, it wasn't the general tone Grey used when calling him about a case or telling him about a newly found victim, and it greatly bothered Bakura as he drove. Bakura just hoped that whatever it was that it didn't keep him away from the house for too long, he was not comfortable leaving Yami alone especially in his current state, the recent scare and the fact that he did not know just how far Yami's misery would drive him.

Bakura's luck, as per usual, was thin. Because of the blizzard the roads were terrible, thus making the normally fifteen minute drive to downtown an hour long even with the minimal amounts of vehicles around him, though most were also in the ditch. Mood becoming far more fowl than it was before from the hour long stewing about stupid snow Bakura was less than thrilled when he pulled up to the scene. Like the last one police vehicles were parked in a block formation outside of the buildings entrance blocking the pedestrians from entering the scene beyond the yellow crime tape. But, because of the police vehicles, he had to park much further away from the entrance to the run down apartment building than he wanted In the end his attempts to bring intense heat into the car were fruitless, the instant he stepped outside he was chilled to the bone by the negative forty degree Celsius wind. Growling all the way into the building he braced himself for whatever it was that he was entering into.

An officer led him to one of the corner basement suits. Quietly trekking behind him Bakura scanned his surroundings with a trained eye. It was an extremely rundown district of downtown where the conditions were barely liveable and every corner was filled with the homeless, unemployed, concubines and criminals. This was also part of Calgary's largest gang's territory. People here were either involved or innocent bystanders, either way his inquiries were only going to be met by crotchety denial or terrified silence.

Frightened or disgusted expressions met him as he scanned the faces of the residents that peeked out their doors to watch the commotion beyond. The police were not welcomed here. Through the barely functioning hall lights he could see the stains and yellow colour of the walls, along with the ragged filthy carpets below his feet. His nose was bombarded by fowl odours; weed, unclean bodies and stale alcohol.

'What the hell am I doing in a place like this, there's no way the killer would target someone in this dismal of a living style. All his targets have been nurses and surgeons, this doesn't fit," Bakura contemplated, scowling deeply.

Grey's head poked out from the room at the end of the hall, the sudden waft of odour expelling from the room caused Bakura's stomach to tighten and coil in protest. Fumbling for the small tube of Vaseline in his pocket he smeared some liberally under his nose sighing with relief when it lessened the intensity of the stench. Stepping up beside Grey he quirked a brow at his partner, Grey's face was clearly vexed with his eyes dark and jaw locked. Not even looking into the room yet he questioned, "What the hell is going on?"

Grey rubbed his neck and glanced back into the room, "I think we found the men that killed Garret," his voice strained. "Take a look."

Nervously the detective averted his gaze into the room mentally preparing himself for what he was going to see, in the end he was far from prepared. Instantly his gut churned and his eyes widened dramatically in shock, "Guh, the fuck," he cursed, covering his mouth with his hand to repress the bile forming in his throat.

Four men sat naked on the opposite side of the room from the door, their expressions frozen in sheer terror and agony. Their hands were violently nailed above theirs heads and their feet to the floor keeping their legs spread angled and exposing everything between them, eyes frozen on the door and glassy. All had their mouths pried open by a strange metal dental instrument displaying the empty cavity within, the light from above illuminating the lack of teeth and a tongue. Every single finger, toe and genitalia were removed; throats slit from ear to ear mirroring the mark of Jack the Ripper. Their bodies were already deep into the decomposition process, past the ten-day mark, bodily fluids expunged and skin black and sunken. But, even through this they could clearly see the paramedics' symbol carved out on each man's chest with violent precision.

"Bakura," Grey whispered in horror, snapping Bakura from the scene before them, gaze locking on Grey's wide eyes as they stared up at the ceiling. "Look up…"

Tentatively Bakura lifted his gaze to the ceiling, his knees buckling in shock and his mouth fell agape at what he saw. On the ceiling written in dried dark blood was '_Yami's mine, he belongs to me…Bakura and Grey … you can't stop me_.'

Seeing the message and remembering the carved symbol Bakura panicked, mentally beating himself, "Shit, Yami, Grey I left him alone at home!"

"You what!" Grey bellowed, rounding violently on his partner. "Why the hell did you leave him there?!"

"He locked himself in the bathroom, he broke down Grey and refused to let me in, he didn't even respond when I said I was leaving."

Growling Grey shoved Bakura back towards the exit, "We need to get back, that prick will take advantage of every second that he's alone."

Barrelling out to their vehicle after rapidly relaying instructions to the officers, the two detectives sped off for Bakura's house, both cursing vehemently as they did so.

Groaning deeply Yami came to lying on the cold tile floor, shivering from the loss of heat and the intense pain from his injuries he peered around. His head felt heavy, and his eyes were burning from earlier making his vision unfocused and strained. No light was shining under the door indicating that both the power was not back up yet and that Bakura was still out. All he could make out from the darkness beyond the door was Reno lying in front of it, one of his paws shoved as far under it as he could get it.

Sighing Yami slowly pulled himself to his feet, clinging to the bathroom vanity for support. His head began to spin the minute he was upright, leaning against the vanity he took a moment to let his vision focus before searching for the lighter and candle in the bathroom. Help or not he needed to clean himself up; barely conscious he could feel the stickiness from the creams and ointments underneath the bandages, along with dried sweat from being practically swaddled in blankets all day freezing his ass off internally while his skin was fairly warm to the touch. This whole showering maybe once a day thing was driving him crazy. He was an admitted clean freak, meaning he usually bathed twice a day especially if he worked.

Finishing lighting all the candles he made quick work of turning on the faucet and filling up the bathtub. Satisfied that the water was hot enough Yami allowed Reno –after the dogs continuous annoying whining began to irritate him – into the bathroom, stripped down, tentatively removed the bandages and carefully covered the incisions with a sheet of plastic and extremely durable tape to ensure that it would not fall off in the water. Turning off the faucet when the tub was finally filled with enough water he slowly slipped into the bathtub. Hissing at the heat of the water he pushed himself through it and forced his body to adjust to the temperature, reminding himself that the heat would completely cleanse his skin of the built up grunge.

Releasing a shaky sigh of bliss Yami relaxed completely, letting his eyes close and his head fall back. His moment of bliss was briefly interrupted by Reno head butting his hand demanding attention. Absently Yami gave in and stroke Reno's head, digits lightly tangling in the dog's thick fur behind his ears. He remained like this until the water became cool, forcing him to add more hot water. Being mindful of the countless injuries and bruises he scrubbed his body clean with a cloth, soon trading it in for the shampoo and conditioner.

Raising from the water after thoroughly rinsing the conditioner from his hair he blearily peered around wiping the water from his eyes. Blinking he searched around for Reno, realising that the dog had vacated while he was under the water. Scowling loosely at his dog's odd behaviour he used the cloth to rinse off the soap bubbles from his upper body, bewildered as to why Reno wasn't remaining with him like he always did. Draining the water from the tub he dried off and walked as fast as his stiff legs could carry him into the guest room where al of his stuff was. Finding a pair of clean pyjamas he pulled them on along with a thick housecoat and socks. Finished he leaned against the wall for a moment to catch his breath, internally growling at the fact that he was exhausted, in a copious amount of pain and dizzy from merely bathing and getting dressed.

Slowly meandering back out into the main area he glanced around the kitchen and living room, brow furrowing when he could not see Reno anywhere, nor could he hear him. Puzzled he scratched the back of his head, _where the hell did he go_ he wondered. This was unlike his dog, normally Reno was with him everywhere he went and rarely left, and generally when he did he there was something wrong. Scowling he took another, more slow, look around the house from his position close to the sectional. Reno was nowhere within his vision range, but something else caught his eye amidst the candlelight.

Placed on the table amidst the mounds of chaotic paper work was a large box decorated with black wrapping paper and a dark red ribbon, a tag sticking out from the ribbon with his name in bold letters. Furrowing his brow Yami felt his heart beat quicken in panic, crimson eyes snapping around the room to check that all the darkened corners were empty and straining to listen for any sound beyond the norm. He knew Bakura was not home, the detective would have come to check on him and more than likely broken down the door to do so. Trembling he leaned against the back of the sectional, staring at it in fearful bewilderment afraid that it was going to explode at any second or that someone would materialize close to him with a weapon. Feeling his breathing become ragged and uneven he cautiously shifted around and sat down on the sectional directly in reach of the 'present'. Getting a better look at it he realised that there was a lid keeping the box closed, tentatively he reached out and pulled the box into his lap, his hands shaking violently. His curiosity was getting the better of him, along with the sheer need to confirm whether or not this may be from someone he knew that had a key to the house, though there weren't many of those.

Taking a slow shaky breath he carefully lifted the lid off the box, keeping his eyes closed in fear as he did so half expecting something to jump out at him or for it to explode in his face. When nothing happened he slowly opened his eyes and peaked into the box. Instantly his stomach turned, the trembling in his fingers intensified and he watched the box drop down to the floor the contents spilling out over the rug under the coffee table. His face went white and his eyes dramatically widened in horror, vision fixated on the spilled contents of the box. Severed fingers, toes, genitalia and ripped out teeth were scattered across the rug, they were barely decomposed and the blood still oozed from them, thick and dark. A human heart lay at his feet still in the box, a note taped to it with the name of the surgeon that he had saved weeks ago taped to it. The distinct scent of saline wafted over him.

Retching he moved to bolt towards the bathroom, stomach revolting against the sickening sight before him, mind reeling in shock. He couldn't move, body freezing at the sensation of hot breath ghosting over his neck, a gloved hand reaching out and taking hold of his shoulder in a bruising grip, while another tapped a cold surgical knife against his now exposed collar bone, the shoulder to the one side of his shirt wrenched down and revealing the flesh there.

"How did you like my little…gift?" a deep voice whispered into his ear, the owner chuckling devilishly when Yami shivered in recognition.

Trembling Yami turned his head slightly, taking in a small view of the familiar black masked man behind him, "You're sick," he snapped out. Instantly regretting it when the killer gave a small wane grin before the hand holding his shoulder cuffed the back of his head brutally and the tip of the scalpel nicked his collar bone. Holding back the sounds of discomfort that threatened to leave him Yami stiffened, biting his lip and tightly squeezing his eyes shut in fear he sunk a little further into the couch trying to move away from the scalpel.

"Watch your manners, young man," the killer hissed softly, tapping the scalpel against Yami's jugular. "And you might… might not end up in the same shape as your father."

Gulping harshly Yami tried to slow his breathing, wary of the tip of the blade pressing into his neck, "How did you get in here, and past Reno."

Chuckling deeply again the killer leaned forward, the side of his masked face pressing against Yami, "Oh it was simple enough. I picked the lock to the back door and shoved a sleeping sedative into your dog before he could make a sound and warn you. Clever, but very easy for me to execute."

Yami could feel his heart beating painfully in his chest, the strain of trying to keep himself still and not bolt in fear was causing the already intense pain in his body to increase mentally slapping himself for not taking his painkillers earlier. He shivered violently every time the killer's breath ghosted across his face or neck, reminding him that he was at the man's mercy, mercy that probably did not exist. Swallowing hard again he gasped out, "What are you doing here?"

"Just paying a little visit," the killer expounded, almost tenderly running the scalpel down Yami's neck and back down to his collarbone, much like a lovers finger. "I know you suffered just a…tragic loss recently."

Snapping his eyes open Yami chanced to look back again, eyes dark with mourning and anger, "How nice of you, didn't know you were capable of sympathy," he said sarcastically through clenched teeth. Panic surged through him as a burly arm wrapped around his neck, not tight enough to suffocate him but not lose enough for him to wriggle free while the other hand undid the tie to his housecoat and began to ghost the scalpel down the front of his PJ shirt, expertly cutting off the buttons as it went.

"Oh, I am not inhumane," the killer murmured, gaze fixed on the scalpel as it removed the last button to Yami's shirt. "I am fully capable and willing to show sympathy where deserved, and losing one close to you I can certainly sympathize. I really wish that he hadn't gotten in my way."

"What?" Yami gasped out, cringing as the killer lightly ran his hand down his torso, parting his shirt to peer down at the damage done, his hands fisting tightly at his sides. "He had nothing to do with that night…he wasn't even there."

Removing his mask with the hand holding the scalpel the killer leaned back against the couch, his now exposed face back against Yami's and the weapon back to its taunting over the bandage where the bullet had entered the young man's chest. "Good to see they did not damage your heart, that would be dreadful and a waste of my skills to remove."

Growling Yami struggled lightly against the hold the killer had around his neck, "Let go of me you sick..." A gloved hand pressing against the bullet wound forced the breath from his lungs and the words from his mouth. A bolt of sheering pain ripped through him, freezing all of his senses an tensing the muscles in his body, a single stifled anguished gasp escaping his throat. The cold handle of the scalpel pressed into the bandaged wound beneath the gloved hand holding it, the killer laughing calmly behind him.

"Tisk tisk, do I have to warn you again to watch your manners," the killer whispered deeply, emphasizing his point by putting more pressure on the wound, grinning in pleasure at the short pained sound Yami released. "You see, I do not want to have to deal with you yet, it would ruin everything. I have already had to deal with a few lose ends that refused to cooperate, as you can see by the contents of my present."

"Lose ends?" Yami gasped out through the pain and the hold on his throat.

"Mhm," murmured the killer, lifting the pressure off Yami's chest and pointing the scalpel at the scattered contents of the box. "They did not follow the orders given, and thus I dealt out the penalty for crossing me. You see, I paid them a large sum of money to get your father away from you, all while leaving you alive. They failed. If your little friends had not come to your rescue, all my fun would be over."

Feeling the information sink into his mind Yami stiffened as he allowed himself to process those words. The five men that attacked him and his father had been hired hit men, not a gang seeking revenge like he thought. The weight of it all collapsed down on him as his mind fully fathomed all the scattered bits of information. The deep dark secret that Grey, Soren and Bakura were trying to hide from him was that his father had been killed and he beaten in order to leave him weakened and vulnerable to the killer's torture. Without Garret's authoritative and daunting figure looming behind him as a security blanket, he was left exposed both physically and emotionally. The killer was after him for what he had done to try and save the sixth victim, and this was the penalty he was receiving for it.

His attention was averted back to reality when the killer whispered harshly into his ear, "Get up, we are going to take a little walk," the arm around his neck tightening in warning.

Breathing becoming shallow Yami glanced back at the killer, crimson eyes narrowing in defiance. If this was going to be the punishment he was going to receive from this sadistic prick, he'd be damned if he went down without giving the bastard a fight. "And what if I don't want to comply, I'm quite comfortable where I am," he retorted.

Chuckling in amusement, the killer grinned cockily, "You don't exactly have much of a choice in the matter. Now get up, you are trying my patience."

"Well, I hope you don't mind me continuing to push my luck." Catching his captor off guard Yami snapped his hands up and gripped the man's arm, vehemently sinking his teeth into the expose pale flesh of his forearm. At the piercing agonized cry from the killer Yami whipped around, his one hand gripping a handful of the killer's hair, dark eyes glaring at the man that had been tormenting him for so long. All time paused as he stared at him, taking in the appearance of a fifty-year-old man, snake green eyes staring at him in shock and dark mousy brown hair with grey flecking through it, skin worn around his eyes and mouth. Snarling he mentally took a picture of the stunned expression on the man's face before slamming it into the back of the couch. The audible crunch of bone and teeth breaking reverberated through the near empty house, the man's pained cry slicing sharply through the air.

Yami cried out as he scrambled to his feet, his injuries flaring in protest against the suddenness of his movements. Nearly clearing the corner off the coffee table, but still managing to clip a toe on the hard wood, he raced toward the front door. It was just in reach, his escape inches away when he felt a hand tightly grasp his ankle, yanking him down and knocking his head against the door. Blearily Yami glanced down at his attacker through the pained haze his fall had created. The killer glared up at him before catching a well aimed foot to the forehead causing him to relinquish his hold on Yami's ankle. Spinning around, adrenaline and fear pumping through his system, Yami came up to a knee swinging his uninjured fist for all he was worth at his green-eyed adversary. He was almost as surprised as his attacker when the hit connected, the jarring impact making them both scream. With an inhuman strength, the killer grabbed Yami by the throat and bodily lifted him, slamming him into the door, a sadistic grin crossing his features at the pained arch and cringe from Yami. He leaned in close to the younger man and squeezed the throat tighter.

Struggling soon ceased, all strength sapped by the previous efforts and lack of oxygen and Yami slumped slightly, his breath coming in ragged bursts. His throat burned with exertion and his muscles ached. He couldn't really remember why he was fighting against this, but when the deep voice whispered in his ear, he came back alert, crimson eyes alight.

"Now, shall we take that walk?"

"Will you let my feet touch the ground first?" Yami grunted out through the pressure on his throat.

The killer just smiled lightly, the movement not touching his eyes and slowly lowered the young EMT to the ground, another scalpel coming from seemingly nowhere and being placed against his throat. With a nod of the head, the killer motioned Yami out the door not caring about the young man's lack of shoes and a jacket.

"Well, since you insist, I suppose we shall," murmured Yami in reluctant submission.

Yami's already chilled body was slammed with the bitter cold outside, ripping through the thin layers of clothing he had on when the killer opened the front door and forcefully pulled him out into the snow, socked feet instantly wet and frozen. As they stepped together down the steps of the veranda, the white-bright glare of headlights turned down the cul-de-sac, and the killer stiffened beside him. With a quick darting of the eyes, he took Yami by the arm and tugged him off toward the lawn. The lights came closer, and a sudden roar of the engine as the vehicle changed direction directly towards them. Near frantic, the killer kicked Yami's legs out from under him and took off running, pulling up the hood of his winter jacket and tightening it around his face, eyes lifting to lock on the barrel of a berretta pointed at his face and Bakura glaring at him with the ferocity of an angered lion.

Having barrelled out the car the moment they had spotted the two leaving the house Bakura had taken advantage of the blinding light the headlights would have created with the white snow around them. Scrambling behind the car he made for a spot behind Garret's parked red truck, gun drawn and pressed tightly to his hip while his did so, eyes watching the killer to wait for his moment to strike. Thankfully he was given a clear shot, his anger barely contained as he pressed the tip of the gun into the man's forehead, "And where do you think you're going?"

Coldly composed the killer glared at Bakura; face barely lit by the headlights making his green eyes glow eerily, "Home."

Snarling Bakura stiffly shook his head, eyes vaguely watching Grey cover Yami with his winter jacket, "I don't think so. I think we are taking a little trip downtown, and either you can do it quietly or filled with bullets in uncomfortable places, your choice."

"None of the above," the killer retorted quietly, his hand flicking up expertly with the scalpel held tightly, the tip of the razor sharp blade burying itself into Bakura's hand and forcing the detective to drop the gun and repel back in surprise. With a quick grin the killer pivoted around and bolted towards the parked car at the end of the cul-de-sac taking advantage of the stunned state he left the detectives in.

Crimson eyes stared down at the gun that had landed in front of him, the sleek metal already being covered in fresh snow. His jaw clenched tightly, his one hand shaking violently as he lifted his gaze to the man that had taken his father away from him and had been tormenting him. Without thinking Yami reached out and snatched the berretta from where it had fallen, years of following Garret to the firing ranges clicking in as he pointed and aimed with numb fingers. Before Bakura and Grey could even move to stop him he squeezed the trigger, the weapon slipping in his frozen hand as he did so, the bullet smashing into the headlights of the car the killer was dashing for.

Ears ringing from the gunshot Grey frantically reached around and wrenched the gun from Yami's hands, Bakura was there instantly taking hold of the young man's hands and pinning them to his sides, the scalpel now out of his hand and the blood from the wound making it hard to keep a hold of the young man. Struggling to keep Yami still both detectives forcefully held him away from the gun, their eyes watching the killer drive off through the blizzard.

"It's not worth it Yami, calm down!" Grey cried out, exerting all his effort to keep Yami still while trying not to aggravate his injuries.

"That bastard killed my Father; I won't let him get away! Let me go!" Yami bellowed, rage and sheer need for revenge controlling him and fuelling his strength.

"Killing him won't make you feel better!" Bakura yelled, hand relinquishing Yami's and tightly holding the young man's face, forcing him to look at him. "It won't bring your Dad back…and you will regret it for the rest of your life…it's not worth it Yami."

Yami finally locked his attention on Bakura, eyes brimming as Bakura murmured again, "It's not worth it."

A/N: sorry again for how long this took…..hope it was worth the wait…..and….fuck this was a frustrating chapter!!!!!


	7. Chapter 7

SILHOUETTE

_**A/N:**__ MERRY LATE CHRISTMAS!!!!!!!!!!!sorry, if I hadn't been busy the last week I would have updated it and it would have been all of your Christmas present from me….but, that didn't work out…anyway…_

_Thanks to Yami Yasi, kuroneko1571, Toxic Hathor, Junki, Blue September(thank you so much for the constructive criticism, trust me I appreciate it so much, I feel so out of place and lacking the talent that I had that hearing what you said is great, it's very helpful) ,WootWoot, Margarita-Lily, Jazz-Lou and punktheway for reviewing, it means so much to me. Sorry for taking so long again on this chapter….life has been intervening a lot with being able to write lately. Between work, thanksgiving, re-writing my EMR exam , Christmas, my vacation to Vancouver and being sick I haven't had much time…and when I do, I'm tired. So, sorry again for taking so long and not being able to update as fast as I did before I started writing Silhouette. Hope you all enjoy this chapter!_

**CHAPTER SEVEN**

The fire burned brightly in the hearth, spreading intense warmth through the house along with the now working furnace since the power finally kicked back on. Hot tea was steeping on the counter absently being watched by Bakura as the man impatiently tapped his now bandaged hand on the 'present'–having already cleaned up the mess - while the medical examiner and forensic officer gave him the report over the phone and promised to have the autopsy files and the basic report at his house the next morning. Through this his eyes never left Yami, watching the young man violently shivering under a mound of blankets, the cold shock from being outside still rampaging through his body. Reno lay by him on the floor, still extremely groggy after being awoken where the detectives had found him with a syringe in his neck in the basement. Grey was in the other bathroom on the main floor, the dryer beeping signalling that the cycle was done and the banging that ensued as the detective pulled the freshly warmed blankets out of it and dashed back into the living room.

Taking off all but the one electric blanket covering Yami, Grey added the ones that he had just ripped out of the dryer draping them over the young man's shivering frame. Sitting down on the edge of the couch he reached out and placed the back of his hand against Yami's brow, shaking his head at the gradually growing residual heat emitting from the young man. Since Yami had left the hospital Grey and Soren had been monitoring the small fever Yami had via the doctor's order, the fact that it had been growing during the day and especially since the EMT's trip outside had him worried. Neither he nor Bakura had yet to check him for any damage that the killer may have caused, never mind even asking what had happened before they had arrived to protect him. Yami was almost unapproachable; he had yet to speak a single word since they had taken the gun away from him outside, and he was practically leaking with fury and self-loathing. Bakura was clearly worried beyond belief, having watched the young man's stone walls already begging to crack earlier, and his worry was heavily beginning to rub off on him.

"Yami," Grey murmured, burning crimson eyes slowly looked up at him in a silent response. "Did he hurt you at all?"

Nodding stiffly Yami eased himself into a sitting position, Grey helping him. Immediately Grey noticed the already newly forming bruises on Yami's neck over the finally diminishing ones. Eyes wandering he noticed the undone buttons on Yami's shirt and the small amount of blood that had already stained it from the cut on his collar bone and what little had seeped through his bandages. Glancing up at Yami he peered into his eyes for the first time since they had brought the young man inside, dilated pupils not reducing to the light of the room signalling that the healing concussion was back with a vengeance. Gingerly he ran both his hands over Yami's scalp and soon found a small lump where the young man's head had hit the door earlier. Sitting back Grey sighed, rubbing the back of his neck with unease, "I'll re-bandage your chest and grab you an icepack."

"Thanks," Yami murmured quietly, crimson eyes watching the detective get up and walk into the bathroom.

Sighing with relief Bakura clicked the phone off after the soft good-bye of the medical examiner and stretched, a loud yawn following it. Meandering around the sectional he moved to sit beside Yami, avoiding stepping on Reno's stretched out body as he did so. Sinking into the sectional, Bakura slumped back sighing heavily in contentment at the softness of the couch. Russet eyes turned to peer at Yami whom was staring at his hands with contempt. Scowling Bakura reached out and gripped the young man's quivering hands, squeezing them gently he murmured, "Don't berate yourself, I would have done the same thing, so would Grey."

Shaking his head Yami closed his eyes, lightly biting his bottom lip, "Doesn't make it right," he ground out.

Seeing Grey come back into the living room with his arms full he held both of Yami's hands with one of his and used the other to take the icepack that Grey handed to him and hold it to the lump on Yami's head. "I can understand why you grabbed the gun Yami. That man has put you through hell and back the last week and a bit...first when you ran into him, then the last two things..."

"You mean three," Yami said harshly, crimson eyes glancing between the stunned expressions on Grey and Bakura's faces. "Those men were hired hit men, hired to murder my father so that that prick could have better access to me. And via what he said...about lose ends...I am assuming that those men are dead, especially considering that the stuff in that 'present' were from them."

Mouths going dry Grey and Bakura exchanged a quick glance then simultaneously cleared their throats, neither knowing what to say or do in response. Letting go of Yami's hand briefly Bakura tentatively removed the EMT's shirt to give Grey more access to remove the old bandages only to take hold of said hands again with his good one. Grey gulped roughly, hands immediately beginning to unwind the old bandages, cringing at the small winces that escaped Yami's throat. Not once looking up from the task at hand Grey put polysporin over the fresh cut on Yami's chest then reapplied the gauze pads and wrapped the recently washed tensor bandages, eyes sympathetic as they ran over the slowly healing dark bruises all over the young man's torso.

Seeing the two detectives attempts to avoid eye contact and the sheer unease that his comment had brought he scowled, his suspicions confirmed by their lack of response. "So, I'm guessing that was the secret the three of you were keeping from me. You knew...you knew he had something to do with Dad's death...yet you didn't tell me..."

Scratching the back of his neck in unease Grey peered up into searing crimson eyes, eyes that seemed to search every inch of his soul. Shuddering he sat on the coffee table directly in front of the young man, ignoring the intense look he was receiving as best as possible, placing his hand on the EMT's arm, "We couldn't tell you, not right away at least. We could see what you already knew was doing to your sanity; we didn't want to add to it."

"I don't care about my sanity!" Yami snapped, wrenching his one of his hands from Bakura's grasp to shove Grey's hand away, his breathing becoming ragged. "You all let me believe that it was completely gang related and gave me no inkling towards the fact that it was a hit. How long were you going to keep me in the dark?!"

Tensing with unease at the steady rise of Yami's temper Bakura continued to try and keep hold of the one hand that he still had a grip on, watching the young man's wild eyes in hopes that he could catch him before he did something stupid. "We didn't know for sure that it was even true until tonight, that's half the reason why we didn't want to tell you."

"Bullshit! You knew, at the very least you had an inkling. Why the hell did you hold that back from me!"

"We did it to protect you," Grey said fervently.

"I don't need protection!" Yami snapped, moving to stand only for Grey to frantically lean on his legs keeping him still.

"I would say that after tonight, yes, you do!" Bakura bellowed, snapping to his feet. "Do you realize what he could have and would have done to you if we had not gotten here in time? And even though we did, he still managed to remove all obstacles to get to you with barely any effort."

"But..." Yami started to protest but Bakura stopped him before he could start.

"But nothing, even though you were safe, and he was leaving, what was the first thing you did? You shot at him...do you think that is a sane thing to do? Do you think that you can, without any sort of protection, face this guy again if he comes after you? That if you knew about his involvement in Garret's murder beforehand that you would not have tracked him down on your own and lived through it in your current state??"

Catching a harsh warning glare from Grey Bakura ghosted a hand wearily over his face, exhaling a deep sigh before sitting back down beside Yami, concern written across his features as he stared at the young man. Yami stared at him with contempt lacking conviction, his legs visibly shaking under Grey's light restraint along with the rest of his body. "Yami, this bastard has killed eleven people now and the only clues we have to really get to him are through you, he's left us nothing to trace him by. We can ill afford to lose you at this point, from a police perspective in terms of this case, and from the perspective of a friend. He's murdered eleven people with no remorse, and has shown an intense eagerness to kill you too. I don't want that to happen."

"In short," Grey added quickly, stopping Yami from making any comments. "We can't always be here, not while he's out there on his killing spree... we think you need police protection, at least till you've healed or until we catch him."

"What!" Yami snapped, eyes flashing darkly. "Police protection? Hell no, I can defend myself!"

Scowling Bakura stared at Yami incredulously, "Yami, you've been out of the hospital for what, three days. And if I remember right, you were shot in the chest so that means your asthma is fucked for the next while because your lungs can barely expand from the damage. Oh, and you were rammed over and over again with a metal pole, meaning that your stomach is covered in extensive internal and external bruising that basically stops you from being able to use your abdominal muscles. Also, as I recall, you have a concussion and still have some of the scratches and bruises from your first encounter with that bastard. Put that all together, and I'd say you're pretty disabled."

Glare darkening Yami stiffly fingered the detective.

Shrugging indifferently Bakura slouched back, "You know I'm right. Until your injuries heal, a ten-year-old could take you down or out run you."

Clenching his fists Yami continued to glare, unwilling to admit that he agreed, "Regardless, there is no need to waste police effort and bodies on me, they have better things to do than babysit a cripple."

"We disagree," Grey interjected, holding up Yami's shirt in an offer of assistance, releasing a pleased sigh when Yami stiffly nodded. "Yes we have a biased opinion, but you are our only link to the killer and you just happen to be one of his targets, one that he seems to fully intent to toy with until he's done with the other people he plans on killing."

"So what," Yami protested, wincing quietly while slipping into his pyjama shirt. "Still not a good enough reason to waste police man power on me."

"Yes it is!" Bakura growled standing up again only to lean over Yami viciously glaring down at him. "Stop being a stubborn selfless bastard! Shut up and listen to our intelligent idea for your safety!"

"Read my lips," Yami said voice deep and quiet, meeting Bakura's glare with his more searing one. "Hell no."

Letting out a frustrated growl Bakura strode over to the window, trying feebly to direct his attention the falling snow, "Yami, you can barely move around this house without help, what makes you think you can get away from him without someone saving your ass."

Shrugging slightly Yami said quietly, "I know I won't, all I can do is fight back and hope, but I'm fine with that. Police should be out doing their job not babysitting me."

Averting back Bakura crossed his arms, scowling deeply, "They won't be babysitting you, they'll be protecting you, which is what police officers are supposed to do, defend those that cannot defend themselves and catch the bad guys. So, they'd still be doing their job."

"The stereotype of it," said Yami. "They do more than just protect the citizens. They catch criminals, break up domestic disputes, put their lives on the line, do drug busts, undercover work, child abuse cases and that's just breaking the ice. I say again, they have better things to do than watch over me."

Scrubbing a hand through his hair Grey stared up pleadingly at Yami, "Come on, we want this for your well being and for this case, not to misuse the police. For crying out loud Yami at least we want the protection for a valid reason, not just wasting their man power on some crazy lunatic."

"I don't care."

"Well you should!" Bakura snapped. "If I was in your position I'd be dancing for joy at the idea of extra people around to watch over my ass and catch that bastard if he's stupid enough to show up here again!"

"Well I'm not you," stated Yami firmly. "I don't want police protection. I highly doubt that he's going to be returning here anytime soon with how badly this attempt backfired on him, his ego is obviously through the roof and this failure would damage it. I'd feel a hell of a lot better if police were out there to find him then here watching over me and if the two of you would stop fretting about keeping a constant eye on me and work on your case. I'll be fine until he's done whatever killing spree this is, he can't waste any more time on me until he's done."

"Fuck, why can't you just listen to us," Bakura yelled, slamming his fist against one of the corners of the sectional. "We are doing what is best for you, why can't you just shut up and let us take care of you!"

"Because you are already doing way more than I ever wanted you to," Yami said simply.

Growling deeply glared across at the young EMT, fed up with trying to break down the young man's stubbornness, "Fine, have it your way, fuck the extra protection that you actually need, hopefully that bastard has more brains than balls and doesn't come after you anytime soon."

"Thank you," Yami murmured, watching Bakura steaming form move over and sit back down beside him on the sectional. "It's not that I don't appreciate what the two of you have been doing for me, I just don't want the two of you to burden yourselves any more than needed, you have already taken on so much for me, I wouldn't feel right if you did anymore."

Rubbing his hands over his face Bakura let out an exasperated sigh, "I know."

Standing up and stretching stiffly Grey glanced over at the clock, jaw dropping and eyes widening as he read the time, "Geez, its only seven."

"You'd better start heading home," Yami suggested, pulling a blanket back over himself.

Shaking his head Grey murmured, "No, I'd better stay, you might sleep better with an extra body here."

Yami scowled, waving his hand dismissively, "I'd sleep better knowing that you actually got to go and tuck your kids in for once instead of watching over me. Go home Grey, Bakura and I will be fine, spend the night with your family."

Staring sceptically between the two Grey pressed, "Are you sure?" Receiving a small smile and nod from Yami he sighed and reluctantly went to get his things. Once he pulled on his shoes and jacket he walked over to Yami and knelt down in front of him his expression sincere. "Try and sleep OK? And remember, none of this is your fault, it's all his."

Stunned Yami nodded stiffly, throat going dry he forced a wry smile, "Yeah."

"It is Yami, don't you dare try and turn it on yourself," Grey said forcefully, gripping the young man's shoulder again. "You did the right thing that night by trying to help that surgeon; it's not your fault that the killer is a twisted asshole with an ego trip. Don't blame yourself needlessly for this; all it will do is tear you apart."

All Yami did was continue to smile, a forced smile that did not comfort either detective only increased their worry. Reaching up Yami squeezed Grey's hand, trying to reassure him, "I know," he murmured.

Not convinced Grey glanced at Bakura, his partner gave him a reassuring look, frowning he reluctantly stood up and walked to the door, "I'll be back in the morning, get some sleep you two."

"Good night," Bakura and Yami both replied quietly, silently watching Grey exit the house.

Feeling a coldness against his hand Yami glanced down to see the discarded and forgotten icepack, silently he put it on the pillow against the arm rest and slowly eased himself down onto it, quietly accepting Bakura's helping hands. Exhaling stiffly against the waves of pain the movements brought him he forced himself to relax and sink into the couch. Once relaxed as much as he could be he peered at Bakura, not surprised to find the detective staring at him seemingly lost in thought. Feeling uneasy Yami murmured inquisitively, "Kura'?"

Russet eyes suddenly snapped and the fog of thought was lifted from them, shaking his head Bakura rubbed his face. "Sorry, was thinking."

"About?" Yami questioned, gaze dropping down to Reno whom had plopped his head in his lap.

"Grey's right you know, deny it all you want. I can understand why you feel responsible, but at the same time, you need to realize that you are not to blame. You did the right thing that night…"

"I've been asking myself that since it happened," interjected Yami, wine coloured eyes staring at the floor. "Did I really do the right thing? Even though I saved that man he ended up dying anyway, and I cost my father his life because I pissed off a maniacal lunatic. No matter the concept it still feels like I was in the wrong somehow."

Stretching briefly Bakura slouched deep into the couch, gaze returning to Yami, "You were doing you're job, how were you supposed to know that you were going to run into that situation. You didn't, plain and simple, that's all that matters. You can't fault yourself for something that you had no control over."

Sighing Yami adjusted himself and eased himself slowly into laying down, head resting in the pillows with his gaze locked on the ceiling, "I know. Doesn't stop it from clawing at my mind."

"Mhm," Bakura agreed, absently remembering the tea he had put on earlier quietly moving back into the kitchen to heat it up. "Alright, all this aside its been one hell of a night. I vote we drink some tea, you take your painkillers and we go to sleep. Sound good?"

"Yeah," Yami murmured, the back of his mind mentally wryly laughing at the concept of sleep, highly doubting that he would get any tonight. He was pulled away from his thoughts as Bakura shoved a hot cup of tea into his hands along with a sleeping pill and two percocets. Scowling he unwilling took the pills and the cup not holding back a less than displeased glare at Bakura. The detective merely grinned and walked away to his bedroom. Turning his glare at the pills he forced down his distain and chucked them into his mouth and trying not to vomit gulped back a large amount of tea, cringing at the sensation of the pills sliding down the back of his throat. Shudding he down the rest of his tea in an attempt to water down the fowl taste of the pills, but something else distracted him from it. Blinking in confusion he silently watched Bakura come back into the living room dropping a blanket and pillow on the opposite end of the sectional before sitting down and grabbing his cup of tea.

Bakura merely grinned at him, "It's warmer out here."

Furrowing his brow Yami frowned slightly, he knew that as truthful as that statement was that it was not the real reason why Bakura was out here. Exhaling stiffly he relaxed, closing his eyes as Bakura shut off the only lit lamp, allowing the sleeping pill and painkillers to take effect. Silently he was grateful, unwilling to vocally admit that the detective's protective presence calmed him and would be the thing he needed to sleep -aside from the pills. Easing his breathing he shifted to get comfortable, adjusting himself when Reno jumped up and laid on his feet, keeping him warm.

Quietly Bakura watched and waited till Yami fell asleep, eyes moving back and forth between the front window and the young man. He didn't know how long he remained like that till his eyes could not longer stay open. Laying down he pulled the covers over himself, succumbing to sleep while mentally fighting off the images that continued to plague him, images of what may have happened if he and Grey had not come home when they had. Sleep was not his best friend that night.

* * *

Abrupt banging against the door and Reno launching himself from the sectional and barrelling towards the door boisterously barking was Yami and Bakura's wake-up call. Startled Bakura scrambled under the blankets he was twisted in, yelping when he fell off the sectional and landed on the hardwood floor. Yami's reaction was far groggier, and significantly safer than Bakura's, he snapped his fingers at Reno and pointed at his side. Reluctantly the dog stopped barking and sat at Yami's side as bidded, his master easing himself into a painful sitting position while Bakura straightened himself out with a groan. Ignoring the bleary amused look Yami was giving him Bakura grumbled and rose to his feet, cursing vehemently when he tried to use his damaged hand to lift himself up. Bakura's already dark scowl deepened as another knock resounded, the sound echoing unpleasantly in his ears. Opening the door he was about to growl at whoever it was that decided to disturb his sleep, only for the cold air to slap him in the face and Soren's glare to sap all the words from his mouth.

Blinking Bakura crocked his head at him, wrapping his arms around himself for warmth, "What do you want?"

"Yami hasn't been answering his phone, I have something to tell him...and he's worrying me," Soren stated, striding into the house and briskly taking off his shoes and jacket, absently watching Bakura close and lock the door.

From his position on the couch Yami quirked a brow at his friend, "Soren, my cellphone was burned in the fire..."

"You haven't gotten a new one yet!! Its been almost a week Yami!" Soren exclaimed, wrenching his toque off with a displeased scowl directed at his friend.

Staring at him incredulously Yami pointed exaggeratedly at the couch, "I'm unwilling on fucking bedrest Soren, how am I supposed to have bought a phone if I can barely move back forth between this couch and the bathroom!"

"Internet! Internet! Just go to your providers website!" Soren said in exasperation moving to collapse in the couch beside his friend.

Resisting the urge to slap his friend Yami continued to stare at him, "One, my laptop and PC were burned in the fire, two, Bakura doesn't have a computer."

Blinking in disbelief Soren averted himself to Bakura, whom had crept into the kitchen and began to make coffee, "The hells wrong with you, do you live in the late Jurassic period or something?"

Snarling Bakura pointed to the basement stairs, "The computer is in the fucking basement, and if you make him march down the stairs to get a fucking phone when there's my home one and cell that you can be calling, I'll hack your balls off and feed them to Reno. Now, shut up and let me do the current important task."

Cringing dramatically Soren placed both hands between his legs and sunk into the couch, seeing the bemused look Yami was sending him he questioned, "What?"

"There's something else bothering you. You're being hysterical and snappy, whats the problem."

Scowling Soren sent a look in Bakura's direction, "Well, lets just say what Grey said in the hospital, is true."

Bakura stood confused for a moment, pondering what Soren had said while pouring the three cups of coffee only for it to click. Coughing in shock he put the coffee pot down as not to spill it, "What!?"

Now even more confused than ever Yami glared at his best friend, "What's that supposed to mean."

Clear unease seeped from Soren as he sat there, hands moving to fiddle with each other, eyes nervously locked on his hands, "Abby's pregnant."

Blinking Yami simply sat and stared in shock, after a few moments of silence he realized that he had been holding his breath and forcefully inhaled. Placing a hand over his chest to ward off the pain it caused he peered at Soren, "She's pregnant?"

"Yep," Soren grunted, shaking his head. "Ten weeks, shes due in late May or so."

Reaching out Yami placed a hand on his shoulder, "Are alright?"

Shrugging Soren sighed and hung his head, rubbing his face with his hands he murmured, "I don't know. We decided we were going to wait a year or two before having kids after the wedding. Abby's panicking, she already bought the wedding dress, and she knows she will probably start to show February for the wedding. And, she's worried about her parents, they are extremely Catholic you know that, like that dont even know that we have had sex...never mind how long we have been. Mine are fine with it, rather, they are bouncing for joy."

Quietly Bakura handed out the cups of coffee, pleased when Soren stopped for a moment to actually catch his breath before taking a large gulp of his coffee. "You could wait till the wedding to tell her parents. It'd be a good toast," he cringed when that earned him a prompt glare.

"As much as I don't like that suggestion, he has a point," Yami stated somewhat reluctantly, gaining a questioning look from Soren he shrugged. "They can't really use any of those damnation terms if you are already married, all they can pull is pre-marriage sex."

Frowning Soren stated, "I agree with it too...but I don't know how Abby will take that suggestion, she already didn't like it when I told her to wait to tell them."

"All you can do is try, and hope nothing gets thrown at you," Bakura stated with a shrug.

"Heh," Soren laughed wryly. "Yeah, hopefully."

Taking a long drink of his coffee Yami questioned, "Now, here's the real question, how are you feeling about this?"

Heaving a sigh Soren dropped his head back against the top of the sectional, eyes closing in thought while his hands fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. Exhaling deeply Soren reopened his eyes and peered at Yami, "Excited, scared...just, as much as I want it I don't know if I am ready...but I guess I have till its born to get to that point."

"And Abby?" Yami added.

"Shes so excited," Soren said, a smile gracing his features. "Terrified, but excited."

Abruptly Soren's smile faded into confusion, eyes narrowing at his eyes peered at Yami's neck then drifted upward. Unnerved Yami sunk into the couch in an attempt to move away from Soren, while Bakura stared on in dread at realizing what had caught Soren's eye. Rapidly gripping the collar of Yami's shirt he pulled it down before Yami could stop him and stared hard at the new bruises, bruises in the distinct shape of a large hand. Scowling he glared up at Yami, barely phased by the stoic look that his friend was giving him in an attempt to hide his unease. "What happened to you! These were not here the other day!"

Reaching up Yami gripped Soren's hand, wrenching it away from his collar he kept his expression even though his head was spasmodically ringing in pain from Soren's outburst. "Calm down Soren."

"Don't try and get out of telling me!" snapped Soren angrily, rapidly rising to his feet, glaring down in pure livid frustration. "What the hell happened!?"

"What we were scared of," Bakura stated simply, successfully diverting Soren's attention, his bandaged hand pointedly tapping the box. "Grey and I were called off last night, we left Yami alone. The scene we arrived at was not what I expected. The killer had struck again, but it wasn't a single victim like all the others. It was four. He had sought out and killed the remaining hitmen that he had hired, obviously they had pissed him off in some way. Needless to say...their toes, fingers, tongues, teeth and genitalia were removed."

Eyes shifting between Bakura and the box Soren cringed in disgust, realization sinking in, "Let me guess, the missing parts are in that box." Seeing Bakura smile wryly was all the answer he needed, stomach turning Soren dropped back down onto the couch, face going white as the concept sunk in and connected with the new injuries and the statement Bakura had made. "He was here...wasn't he."

Bakura and Yami both bowed their heads in response, neither expecting Soren to suddenly envelope Yami in a tight embrace. Stunned Yami blinked body rigid at first before feeling the slight vibration in Soren's form, clenching his jaw he responded to the embrace, "Soren...?"

"He almost had you, didn't he," stated Soren, feeling Yami's reluctant nod he tightened his hold on his friend, heavy worry weighing down on his shoulders. "Why didn't you call? I would have been here."

"I..." Yami started, voice faltering. "Don't think you would have wanted to see me...I wasn't..."

Sitting back Soren stared hard into Yami's eyes, sighing deeply at the pure embarrassment and shame radiating from his best friend. Hands moving to Yami's shoulder's Soren squeezed them gently, "Yami, I don't care if you broke down, if you were screaming and lashing out in hurt or anger. No matter what fucked up emotions you are going through I'm here for you. Damn you and your pride," seeing Yami bite his lip and lower his eyes again Soren scowled more. "I've seen you break down Yami, I've watched you beat the shit out of bullies, thugs that attacked us and the killer, I've seen you in the hospital twice barely able to do anything for yourself. I've seen you in all the worst states you could ever be, and they will never change my opinion of you, ever!"

"What about taking Bakura's gun and firing at him, would that change it?" Yami snapped, chest tightening at the stunned reaction he received. "I lost it last night!"

Swallowing hard Soren forced himself to take a deep breath before speaking, "Like I said, nothing would change my opinion of you, or how much I care about you. If you lost it last night then I really should have been here. And the shooting at that rat bastard...it doesn't surprise me, and guess what, its justified no matter what anyone says."

"Soren," the detective interjected quietly. "The killer told him, about Garret, our theory."

Paling dramatically Soren felt Yami tremble under his hands, seeing his friend's clenched fists he peered at him, "I'm sorry...I know we should have told you...but...."

He was silenced, Yami ruby eyes locking with his, the look in them dried his mouth, "They told me last night. I understand and I forgive all of you. But, the only thing holding me back from going out and finding that son of a bitch is what Bakura and Grey said last night. I have people here to live for, and at the moment I would not survive trying to take him down, it'd be suicide."

Holding back a sigh of relief Soren cupped Yami's face, holding it still so he could look into his eyes, assessing his pupils, "Have you gone to get yourself checked out at the hospital? I'm guessing that you got into a bit of a scuffle last night," seeing Yami quirk an eye brow in reponse he frowned. "Let me check you over then at least, stubborn God damn mule."

"Speaking of that, let me see your hand Bakura," Yami curled a finger at the detective, taking the hand when it was presented to him. Easing off the bandages he took his time and slowly felt and rubbed at Bakura's hand, gagging his reaction to see where damage may be while feeling for any broken bones. When the dual scabs cracked and began to bleed Yami resigned, much to Bakura's relief, and re-bandaged it with the supplies Soren had went to gather. "Doesn't feel broken, luckily, but you should probably drop by the walk-in clinic to make sure. Feeling can only do so much."

"Whatever," grunted the detective, shifting away from the glare Yami gave him. "I'll go do it later, need to grab some groceries anyway. Coffee first though."

Pointing at Bakura's hand Soren questioned, "I am guessing that the killer did that?"

"Yeah."

"Alright, no more procrastinating Yami," Soren said, standing up and staring down at his friend in amusement as the glare shifted from Bakura to him. "Lay down, let me check you."

"I'm fine."

"Just shut up and lay down willingly."

Scowling Yami, with great distain, pulled off his shirt with Soren's help and laid down. "Grey did this last night already, this really isn't necessary."

Soren stared at Yami incredulously while palpating the back of the EMT's head to feel the damage there, "He is not a trained professional, so shut up and let me do this, I need to know that you don't need to be taken to the hospital." Cringing when he felt the lump he moved his hands away the instant Yami tensed. "You need to relax, it'll be a lot less painful if you do."

A resounding knock on the front door stopped Soren from starting his exam. Sighing with relief at such random luck Yami tracked Bakura as he rushed to answer the door, Reno already sitting at the window looking out at the individual there. Unlocking the door and opening it, Bakura was met by a heavily bundled up Grey, "Hey, come on in."

Gratefully stepping in Grey closed the door behind him blocking the cold from continuing to enter the home. With a smile he gave Reno a vigorous pet in response to the dogs happy whine and insistant nose pressing into his hand. Pulling off his scarf he quirked a brow at the topless Yami laying on the couch, "Changing the bandages again?"

Yami shook his head, unsuccessfully bitting back a grin at the glare Soren gave him, "No, you just saved him from having me check him over...for now," Soren grunted.

"Hm, well then," Grey chuckled, attention turning to Bakura. "You'd better get your gear on. Just got a call from homicide, two officers were called last night after the neighbours heard screams and a lot of banging in the house next door. Because of all the damn snow it took them almost two hours to get there, besides that it wasn't a priority call, they thought it was just a domestic. It was put down on the list after the shooting that happened downtown last night and all the car accidents. Needless to say, here was not the only place that bastard visited last night."

Bakura scowled, "Victim number eight." Grey simply nodded as Bakura started dressing against the cold. "What time do they figure he was there?"

"Well, the call came in about ten, but the caller said that the banging had been going on for a several hours by then. By the time the officers got there, it was too late. The sergeant told me it wasn't pretty, the two rookies that responded didn't handle it well."

"That means he went straight there after leaving here," Yami murmured while pulling his shirt back on with Soren's aide.

Nodding stiffly Grey turned to exit the house as Bakura slipped into his last boot, "Sorry to drop this on you, but you being here right now is really convenient Soren. Can you stay here with Yami till we get back?"

"Yeah, of course," stammered Soren. "I've got nowhere to be till tonight."

"Thanks, we'll hopefully be back in a couple of hours, hopefully," said Bakura, giving a quick wave he followed Grey outside to the vehicle. Clambering in and clicking his seatbelt on he glanced over at Grey, watching his partner pull off the emergency break and drive out of the cul-de-sac. "This is not going to be pretty." Seeing Grey nod in agreement he sighed and forced himself to try and relax for the drive.

Both of their moods turned sour upon arrival. The house was blocked off like any other crime scene with police vehicles and tape, an ambulance and the forensic crew vans. But, there was an added obstacle outside of the normal spectators. Reporters. Thus far they had managed to avoid all the media attempts to see or overhear anything about the case, along with fervently turning down all the requests for interviews.

"Damn bastards," Bakura cursed, glaring at the reporters and cameramen that stormed the vehicle as they pulled in. "People and their morbid curiosity, disgusting."

"We going to give them anything?" Grey asked even though he knew the answer.

"Hell no, they'll get a polite fuck off," Bakura grunted, removing his seat belt and shoving the door open, not caring that it wacked one of the cameras. Immediately microphones were shoved in his face and news reporters were yelling out questions about the case. Holding back a snarl he snapped out. "We will not be releasing any sort of statements at the moment. Our top priority is handling this crime scene and continuing our investigation. Now, please move so I can do my job."

With that he slammed the car door shut and pushed he way through the crowd, releasing a relieved breath when he was finally able to meander under the police tape, Grey at his side. Grinning triumphantly he tried not to laugh, though Grey failed, as the police officers standing by the tape forcefully kept the reporters back. Showing their badges to the officers guarding the door they asked for a quick rundown of what had already been done here.

"It looks like hell took over in there," one of the officers stated, an older man who appeared to be in his late fifties. "Poor rookies, they two ones that responded. They're in the garage with the paramedics tending to them, they're pretty shaken up."

"We'll give them some time to recover before we talk to them, just tell us when they are ready," Grey stated.

"Will do. They coroner is upstairs with the body, guarding him till ya get up there, then he said he'll prep im' and take im' to the morgue to do the autopsy. Forensics is already sifting through, collecting as much as they can in that hell hole."

"Thanks officers, we'd better be heading in there and see what we have to deal with," said Bakura.

"Good luck," said the other officer. "It ain't pretty in there."

Simultaneously saying thank you they moved past them and into the house, needing to take a moment to allow their eyes to adjust from the brightness outside before taking in the scene.

The front room showed no signs of struggle. There was but an overturned cup and the coffee table was slightly askew, but otherwise nothing seemed to be out of place except for the rank stench of blood permeating around them and the forensic team gathering evidence. The walls were a different matter altogether, both Bakura and Grey felt their stomachs turn as they stared wide eyed at them. On every wall there were large paramedic symbols in a dark colour seeming to have been painted on with fingers. Splattered blood flecked the grey carpeting up the stairway where more symbols adorned the walls and ceiling, painted on. Swallowing hard the detectives gave each other an uneasy look before wandering upstairs to find the Medical Examiner.

The fowl unforgettable reek of a death filled their nostrils, causing both to stop and cringe, their eyes locking on the extensive amount of blood soaking the carpet in the hall. The medical examiner popped his head out from what appeared to be the bathroom; he motioned for the two to come in. With a show of reluctance Grey and Bakura strode to the door and peered in, both trying hard to not wrench their eyes away from the sight before them.

Every surface of the bathroom was drench in blood, blood that had yet to dry because of the copious amounts of it. The ME was kneeling beside the bathtub, what could be assumed to be the body laying sprawled within it. Fingers were stripped of their flesh, joints were broken and mutilated, and countless numbers of lacerations and stab wounds littered the body making gender and face unrecognizable. It almost looked as if someone had went at this person with a machete, and that either this individual put up one hell of a fight or was rendered completely defenceless before given the opportunity to try. The chest cavity was bare, skin ripped completely off and left in a heap at the bottom of the tub, leaving blood to ooze and coat everything within the thorax and the tub. The heart was clearly missing. The lungs appeared have been hacked at, nothing truly recognizable remained of them or any other structure in the thorax.

"Dear God," Grey groaned, covering his mouth in shock.

The ME scowled, staring down at the victim, "He was dragged into here from the bedroom. There is blood in there, probably explaining the blow to the back of his head, along with the drag marks through the hall. If you look at the wall you will see that on the towel rack there are handcuffs. I believe that most of the damage was done there, all the holes in the wall confirm that theory. I have sneeking suspicion that the victim was drugged or at least completely vulnerable in some way for all this damage to take place, even the damage done to the back of his head would have only kept him unconscious for a little bit, if it did at all. Then he probably dumped this poor soul into the bathtub to remove his heart. Our killer was angry with this one, it's not like any of his other killings, this one is far more brutal. I believe he was still alive when the process began."

Inwardly cringing Bakura turned his gaze to the ME, "How long will the toxicology results take to come in?"

"If I rush them, three weeks," the corner responded, rising to his feet stiffly. "I would like to take him to the office as soon as possible, the amount of damage is excessive and it's a lot for me to go through and process for you."

"Yeah, that's fine, um" Bakura stated trying not to breathe in the stench. "We had better go and see what the Forensic group has found so far, see if they need any help, make sure that the family has been contacted. You know the fun stuff."

Shaking his head at the sarcasm the ME stepped out into the hallway, "Well, forensics does have something that they found for you, something important they said, a note of some kind I believe."

"A note?" Grey questioned.

The ME nodded, "Yes, that's what it was, they found it in the kitchen. Now, I need to get my crew, excuse me."

"Certainly," both Detectives said, allowing the man past them before following him down the stairs.

Without needing to communicate between each other they went to find the head forensics officer, they needed to see that note. Upon finding him at one of the vans outside Grey and Bakura remained silent as the man pulled out the paper note from one of the envelopes, holding up the plastic bag for them to see. The man pointed at the red ink, "We found a leadless pencil beside it and a cup full of blood, one of the many cups that we have found throughout the house. All those symbols and this message were done in blood, this bastard has risen to a whole new level of evil and messed up."

Bakura grunted, reaching out and taking the plastic bag to read the note, "He was there before, just contained himself," he stated, going silent as his eyes ran over the note, skin becoming pale. "_Ten victims, eight down, two to go, then I'm free_."

A/N: Again, sorry for this taking so long….hopefully the next chapter won't take as long as this one did….I feel so bad for making all of you wait. Hope it was worth the wait though.


	8. Chapter 8

SILHOUETTE

_**A/N:**__ Thanks to Toxic Hathor, yami yasi, Jazz-Lou, Blue September and EgyptianSoul.88 for reviewing, you guys are amazing and definitely a big part of what is keeping me writing._

**CHAPTER EIGHT**

Bakura's head was pounding not only from his excuse of coffee withdraws, but from the meticulously reading through the notes he made at the scene and the new ones he did while shifting through the initial autopsy photos and the pictures that the arriving officers took of the victim. Grey didn't seem to be in much better condition, hazel eyes squinting as he peered at the blinding white streets as he drove to Bakura's house. The snow ploughs had yet to reach this residential area today, so their little car was having slight issues making it home and Grey's jerky driving had caused Bakura to take a firm hold of the evidence box.

Finally turning onto the street towards the cul-de-sac Grey glanced over at his partner, "So, one car or two?"

Knowing what Grey was referring to Bakura smirked, "One."

Grinning Grey pulled into the driveway, turned off the car and pulled the emergency break up, "You're such an ass."

Unbuckling his seat belt Bakura grinned before shoving the car door open, "Why thank you, such a lovely compliment."

Shaking his head Grey followed in suit, locking the car and walking up the stairs to the door, "I have to ask, one last time, are you sure we should be doing this, I'm not sure if he can handle this right now."

Pushing the key into the door, ignoring Reno's insistent barking, he glanced back at Grey, "Better now while its fresh, and really, it's better that he know just exactly what he is dealing with, I don't want him doing this almost completely blind." Seeing Grey reluctantly nod in agreement he turned the key and door handle, graciously stepping into the warmth of the house. Immediately he spotted Yami completely comatose on the couch swaddled with nearly every blanket in the house, Soren was hovering near him eyes lifting from his vigil over his friend to greet them with a smile. Kicking off his boots Bakura offered a smile before trudging through to the kitchen table and dropping the box.

"How are you two?" Grey asked while hanging up his coat.

"Alright," Soren murmured, glancing at Yami he scowled a bit. "The bugger's got a bit of a fever, nothing bad though. He's slept for most of the time that the two of you were gone. Oh, and I have food started, I was hoping that the two of you would be home soon."

Striding into the kitchen Bakura followed the smell and knelt down in front of the oven, he grinned when seeing a rather large casserole dish filled with homemade macaroni and cheese baking, "Thanks, smells good enough that its waking up my lost appetite, you'll make a good housewife someday."

Standing up Soren placed the back of his hand on Yami's forehead, scowling slightly he moved away and into the kitchen and resisted the urge to hit Bakura, "Was the scene that bad? Kinda thought you had a strong stomach, or were used to what that prick did by now."

"That's the thing Soren, this wasn't what we are used to or expecting....even after finding those four thugs the other day," Bakura murmured, stepping out of the way so Soren could pull the food out of the oven.

Placing the casserole dish on top of the stove Soren removed the gloves, "What do you mean?"

"As in this was not his normal MO, and it put what he did to those four men to shame, even what he has done to the other victims does not compare to what he did to this one. He was angry with this one, and not because of what the victim did, but because of what had just happened before we went there."

"I.E the old saying of, when you are angry at someone picture their face on whatever it is that you are beating, though generally it's not another person that's taking said beating," Bakura stated grabbing some bowls from the cupboard.

Taking the bowls with shaky hands Soren began to dish out the food, "Joyous," he said sarcastically. "Grey can you wake Yami up and grab the thermometer, need to check his temperature."

"Of course," with that Grey grabbed the thermometer from the bathroom and proceeded to kneel down and gently shake the young EMT. "Yami, wake up, foods ready."

Blearily staring up at Grey in confusion, Yami pulled the blankets tighter around him, "You're home....how long have I been asleep?"

"Intermitted for the past ten hours," Soren said striding over carrying two bowls, Bakura behind him with the other two. Placing them on the coffee table he politely took the thermometer from Grey and handed it to Yami, whom glared at him but willingly took it and shoved it in his mouth. "You stirred a few times when I took your temperature, but you haven't really moved otherwise."

Hearing the thermometer beep Soren pulled it out, "Hundred and two, higher but not dangerous considering that it's you. Let's sit you up so you can eat and take your pills."

Stomach turning Yami shook his head, "I'm good for now."

Scowling Soren reached out and gently pulled his friend into an upright position, mindful of his injuries, "You're eating Yami, no arguments. With the fever you have you need to take the anti-inflammatory and painkillers and see if they reduce it. If you go up two more degrees I'm taking you to the hospital."

Glaring pathetically Yami reluctantly allowed Soren to hand him a glass of water and the three pills, jugging back the water and chucking the pills in his mouth Yami cringed at the fowl taste, downing the last of the water in an attempt to wash it away. Gagging he glared at the bowl of pasta in front of him in disgust, his stomach doing violent flip flops and sending bouts of nausea through him just from the smell of it. When seeing that the others were eating and the expectant looks they were giving him he, with great tentativeness, picked up the bowl and ate it in silence. When finished, he laid back down, his gut revolting against the unwanted food in it. His scowl returned when Bakura stood in front of him, holding out a stack of pictures, "What?"

"We got permission to do a photo line-up, but the conditions were that you look through our entire suspect pool because we did not have the time to make a proper line-up. I need you to look through them, while that man's face is still clear."

Sighing Yami reached out and lying on his back began to flip through the massive amount of pictures given to him. It was instantaneous and recognizable by all in the room when he found the right picture, his hands began to tremble slightly and his face paled a bit. Taking hold of the picture he vehemently handed it to Bakura, "That's him."

Taking the picture Bakura stared down at it, seeing some of the same facial features that he had briefly seen last night he asked, "Via protocol, I'll ask, are you sure?"

Peering up the detecting Yami said stiffly, "Without a doubt. I stared right into his face, his fucked up eyes, that's him alright."

Flipping the picture over Bakura stared at the name on the back, "Alphonse Caine."

Bakura continued reading off a list of particulars about the suspect, as Yami eyed the box that the picture came from, catching sight of the edge of one of the pictures jutting out from it. He could barely make out a bathroom covered in blood, the rich colour fluid ruining the soft green and white tiles and paint. Slowly he stood; brushing aside Soren's restraining hand and words of caution, the box now had his full attention and he stumbled toward it. Reaching it he accidentally knocked it off the table only now noticing how badly his hands were trembling. Catching a glimpse of Bakura and Grey scrambling towards him out of the corner of his eye he averted his attention to the fallen box. The graphic pictures of the scene that the detectives had just attended spilled to the floor, and Yami slid to the floor in front of them. Horror filled his eyes as scenes of blood stained walls and dismembered bodies drifted across them. He could see the man's, Alphonse's, eyes leering into his. He could see in his mind's eye the man slashing the victim with his scalpel with reckless abandon.

Red eyes flitted from picture to picture, his mind filling in the blanks. Alphonse breaking the lock of the house, and creeping quietly down the hallway, and bumping the table in the living room. The muted curses and the quiet movement had somewhat roused the victim, but not enough. The killer snuck up to the bedroom, and slashed the tendons under the victims arms, preventing him from flailing back. Alphonse straddled the man's chest and had began raining blows on him, punches and elbows to the face and neck, effectively pulping the man's head. From there he dragged the nearly unconscious man to the bathroom and cuffed him to the towel rack with a pair of handcuffs that he had stolen from the house that the EMT lived in. Cold water is an excellent way to rouse an unconscious man, and Alphonse used it liberally after gagging him so he couldn't scream...too loudly. Reaching into his jacket, he pulled out a cardiac needle and placed it on the counter before beginning to slash his victim with the scalpel. The cheeks went first, quick, round cuts removed the fleshy parts. Next were the fingers. Alphonse knew that peeling the skin off the fingers was a simple matter, quick, deep cuts around the end of the finger, then a lateral incision up the length of it. Peel and done, easy as that. He worked quickly, but not so much so that he would kill his fun too fast. He saw it then, a toolkit sitting on the counter as well. How he had missed that before he did not know, but it would certainly come in useful now. He rooted through it and found a few spikes, a claw hammer and duct tape.

Yami could feel the bile rising as these images ran through his feverish mind, but they did not stop, nor could he tear his eyes from the pictures in front of him.

Peeled fingers were smashed, bits of bone falling to the floor and damaged muscles leaking. The victim's screams were loud, even with the muffling of the gag. He didn't need the distraction, so Alphonse added another layer to the sound protection. It was not enough, so he grabbed his fun by the ears and started slamming the back of his head into the wall. The meat was silenced now, and Alphonse began cutting and otherwise mutilating the body, blood splattered across walls, and over porcelain. Finally, when he sensed the fun coming to an end, the killer grabbed the cardiac needle and stabbed it into the victim's heart, causing it to beat faster. Alphonse released the victim and dumped him in the tub, before grabbing his rib spreader, cracking the chest and violently ripping out the fast-beating heart.

Only seconds had passed outside his mind, Bakura and Grey reached him, each grabbing Yami under an arm and pulling him away. The bile made its way up, and spilled down onto the floor, its stench revolting everyone around. Thankfully his lost dinner had completely missed the pictures, a fact that was ignored as Soren rushed to clean up the mess while the two detectives held the heaving EMT upright.

Finishing wiping up the mess Soren glanced at Grey and Bakura, "Get him to the bathroom."

Carefully Grey and Bakura lifted Yami up completely supporting the near unconscious young man and helping him into the bathroom. They were glad they did, the instant they got in and had Yami sitting on the floor Grey had to make a practiced mad dash to lift the toilet lid. Both were somewhat thankful when Soren ushered them out of the room making them stand in the doorway while he stayed with Yami, rubbing his friends back and monitoring his damaged chest and stomach as his friend continued to vomit.

The group remained silent for the next few minutes until Yami finished. Panting Yami leaned back against the wall, eyes closed as he tried to ease his breathing and relax through the pain that his retching had caused. Groaning he crossed his arms over his chest, the pain in his chest had intensified even from his encounter last night. His nausea was not yet gone; instead the added agony from his chest and stomach was making him extremely dizzy and lightheaded. Feeling Soren's hand against his brow he opened his eyes and peered up at his friend, seeing the intense concern he murmured, "Sorry, shouldn't have looked."

Sighing Soren pulled out the thermometer that he had grabbed from the living room and gently put it in Yami's mouth, "Shush, its fine. Besides, I'm starting to think that this has something more to it than just looking at those pictures."

"What do you mean?" Grey questioned.

"Well, as much as those pictures would have probably done the same to me, he's also had this increasing fever since the other day and not to mention the little scuffle he had last night," Soren expounded, taking out the thermometer and scowling at the temperature. "I'm starting to think that he has an infection, or blew some of the sutures open last night. His fever has already gone up a degree since I last checked it."

As if on cue Yami hunched forward and coughed violently, hand covering his mouth in an attempt to stifle it. The moment the coughing was done he slouched back against the wall, vision spinning as he looked at his hand having felt something splatter it. Paling he glanced at Soren whom had taken his hand and was staring at the bright bubbly crimson liquid that he had coughed up. Blood.

"Shit!" Bakura cursed. "I'm going to start the car, you're going to the hospital whether you like it or not."

"Grey, can you grab some sweatpants for him or something?" Soren asked absently watching Bakura run to start the car. Receiving a nod he averted back to Yami, sitting on the toilet he reached out and encouraged Yami to hook his arms around his neck. "Let's get you up, ready?" Feeling Yami nod he slowly stood up, careful to balance their weight so that Yami did not have to aid and so that they didn't fall into the wall. He was especially thankful when Grey came in and finished helping them, though Yami was blushing profusely when they helped him stay standing and changed his pj pants to the sweatpants Grey had grabbed.

All three were pleased when Yami did not give a word of protest as they all intermittedly aided him out into the living room and got his winter gear on. Supporting Yami out the door Soren and Bakura walked with him to the car, all four clambering in and buckling their seatbelts.

Trying not to shiver Yami leaned against the car door peering out into the street, scowling slightly when he spotted a running police car sitting outside through his blurry vision. Seeing Bakura and Grey both fidgeting and turning on the heater and the radio he snarled, "Fuckers."

Bakura cringed, "So um, what hospital?"

* * *

"It's an infection, a few of the stitches to one of openings in his lungs ripped open," the doctor explained simply to the three as they stared impatiently at him. "We repaired the damage, unfortunately for him that did mean another surgery, but a minor one. As well we have him on a strong antibiotic, he should be well enough to be released back into your care in a few days, we just need to monitor him until then."

"Has he awoken from the anaesthesia yet?" Soren questioned.

The doctor nodded, "Yes, he's been roused already, but went back to sleep because of the painkillers and the antibiotic. He'll probably sleep through the night now, at least we hope he will."

"Can we see him?" Bakura asked politely, sighing with relief when the doctor smiled and pointed down the hall. "Thank you doctor."

"Of course," the doctor said, smile widening before he moved off to see the next patient.

Quietly the three walked down the hall and into the indicated room, instantly seeing Yami fast asleep in the only bed within the room they moved up to him. Sighing Bakura leaned against the wall beside the bed, "We can only stay for about an hour, then visiting time is over till eight tomorrow."

"The two police officers should be coming back up here soon, I sent them to grab us all some tea," Grey stated sitting down in a nearby chair. "Whew, it's been one hell of a long day."

"Yeah," Soren said quietly, sitting down on the edge of the bed, hand taking hold of Yami's.

"You should probably head home after you drink your tea Grey," said Bakura glancing down at his partner. "You'll miss bedtime stories and stuff with your kids."

"Yeah, unfortunately for you two that would mean me taking you both back to your place right away."

"He's sleeping, and besides we can't stay past eleven, it's fine," Soren said. "He's not in critical condition this time, we can't stay, and the police protection will be a small relief to all of us."

Seeing the two officers come up to the room Bakura took the liberty of grabbing the three cups of tea from them and returning to his comrades. After handing them out he resumed leaning against the wall and drank his tea, "Hopefully tomorrow will give us something other than another dead body so we can get rid of this prick and we can all rest easy."

"Amen to that," Grey grunted lifting up his tea.

"Amen," Soren and Bakura chimed solemnly, lightly hitting their cups against Grey's.

* * *

Bakura and Grey had spent the morning after a quick visit to the hospital running around like chickens with their heads cut off. They went to the morgue to gather the full autopsy, were informed that all the samples had finally been sent off from the scene to be analyzed for DNA and anything else that could be found, they gathered statements from the two rookie officers now that they were stable enough to talk along with the neighbours and fished around to find all the data they could from the systems on Alphonse Caine. It had taken a little bit of bribery to gain some of the files that they had wanted, but the files that were needed and well worth bribing for.

By the time they were done the two were driving back to the hospital with all the information they had, staring at the clock in shock. It was nearly seven at night.

"Where the hell did the time go," Grey muttered.

"Dunno, but food is necessary," Bakura stated pulling into the drive through. "Your usual?"

"Times two," Grey grunted, patting his gurgling stomach. "I'm starving. We should probably grab something for Soren too, I doubt he's left there since this morning."

"True, alright, he's a bloody glutton, he'll eat anything."

With the car now reeking of fast food they drove into the visitors parking in the hospital, paying for the necessary ticket before parking. Carrying the files and bags of food between the two of them they meandered into the hospital and found their way to Yami's room. As they reached the appropriate floor, they were stopped by a nurse, garbed in florescent pink.

"Excuse me, gentlemen, but you cannot have that on this floor."

Grey just flashed his badge at her, and responded, "Official police business, ma'am." They continued on, both trying hard not to laugh at the dropped jaw expression they had gained from her.

Both stopped in the door way as the conversation from within reached them.

"You're not going anymore Yami! You can barely walk, you're just going to be getting out of the hospital and you won't be able to drink!" Soren exclaimed.

"I promised I would go."

"I don't care, you're a fucking gibble."

"I'm not that bad! I'll be out before the party, it'll be fine."

"You're in the fucking hospital!"

"Not by my choice," Yami growled.

"You didn't put up any sort of protest."

"I wasn't coherent enough to say anything, what's your point."

"Ahem!" Bakura coughed from the doorway gaining both of their attention. "Are ya done yet?"

Both barely had time to blink before a bag of food was tossed at Soren. "Eat," came the command from Bakura, and Soren followed it immediately and happily.

Grey looked to Yami, rapidly taking in the somnolence but also the slight colour that had returned to his pale skin. "Sorry, none for you though, you are stuck on hospital slop. This however," he placed a tall paper cup on the table beside Yami, "is for you."

Yami opened the top of the cup and inhaled deeply the aroma of his favourite tea before smiling softly at the two officers, "Thanks, I needed this."

Bakura simply nodded and tossed the file in his hands on the table beside Yami. "I shouldn't be letting you see this, but we found out some more information on Caine." Yami looked up from his cup to lock eyes with Bakura. "They are vengeance killings, it seems."

Yami's eyes went wide for a moment then narrowed as he looked pointedly at his friend. "I have a feeling that you are leading into something, Bakura."

Bakura just nodded, then opened the file. He showed the top item to Yami. "I think I now know why you have made quite the impact on our new friend." The expression on Yami's face brought Soren over, burger in hand. He almost dropped it when he saw the picture.

"It's you!" Soren exclaimed, "But...it's not."

"Devon Caine. Died at age 14 due to surgical complications after a car accident, Alphonse's only child. He'd be your age now Yami, his birthday is only a few months before yours."

"Odd coincidence," Yami said quietly, staring at the autopsy photo of a young man nearly identical to him, just missing the exuberant spike of his hair, the blonde bangs, and red eyes. It was eerie how similar they were, their physique was the same even, it sent chills down his spine.

"Hmm, and unfortunately for you, interfering with his plan didn't help matters," Bakura stated pulling out a few other pictures and laying them down for viewing, all eight were autopsy photos of the victims. "The fact that you and the person he is avenging look identical causes another wrinkle that I was hoping not to have to deal with. But, here is the rest of our proof that it is a revenge spree. All the victims were the attending surgeons, nurses and anaesthesiologist taking part in the surgery. Really really, his son Devon wasn't going to make it anyway; his aorta had been severed, damage to the heart muscle, a collapsed lung and brain damage. This kid had no chance of survival, the surgeons did all they could to stop the bleeding but it was pretty bleak to begin with. Alphonse just couldn't accept the fact that Devon was gone, that there was no way to save him. Being a surgeon himself he probably thought that they just didn't do their job properly in his state of grief and blamed them, plotting his revenge for the past couple of years."

"Do you know who the remaining people are that were in the operating room?" Yami questioned, dark eyes peering at Bakura.

The detective nodded, "There's two more, we have their addresses and everything, just need to wait for approval for police protection, along with surveillance on Alphonse and the ability to search his house and interview his wife."

Somnolently Yami nodded, drinking back more of the hot tea in his hands. Closing his eyes he relaxed as much as his body would allow against the raised part of his hospital bed. Hiding the cringe of pain as best he could he gave his body a moment of anti-movement before easing the tension, breathing easing as he did so. "How long do you think it will be until you get approval?"

Shrugging Bakura inhaled the rest of his burger before answering through his food, "A week at the latest tomorrow is the hope though."

"All this aside," Grey murmured, tapping Yami's slightly bent knee to gain the young man's attention. "How are you feeling? You were still asleep when were came to check on you this morning."

Crimson eyes opened and peered at the two detectives, "Surviving."

Giving a hard glare Bakura grunted, "That's obvious."

Scowling Yami sipped at his tea, avoiding giving the forced answer briefly, "Uncomfortable, sore, groggy...that more to your liking?"

"Significantly," said Soren throwing his created basketball of garbage into the nearby can, scowling when it almost bounced out.

"How's the fever?" Bakura asked.

"Down a bit, doctors have been keeping it at hundred and two all day. They told me he had a bit of a spike last night after the surgery, but the antibiotics are clearly working and keeping it at a steady temperature now," Soren expounded sitting forward and leaning his arms against the mattress. "He's been sleeping most of the day, only been up for the past two hours."

Quirking a brow Bakura grunted with a smile, "Must be nice."

Yami gave a small shrug, eyes rapidly having issues staying open, "The painkillers and the antibiotic are supposed to make me groggy, besides that I am still healing from the other part. As much as I want to be awake, my body and the drugs won't let me."

"We should probably let you sleep then," said Grey before taking a quick slurp from his soda. "Besides, there's a lot of shit that we have to do tomorrow, we should hit the sack too."

Yami gave a somnolent nod, eyes barely staying focused, his decline in alertness rapid, "Understandable. Thanks for coming, and for the tea."

"You're welcome," said both detectives, Grey giving the young EMT a gentle hug while Bakura game a small wave.

"Thanks for the food as well," Soren added. "Will you guys be dropping by tomorrow?"

Shrugging Bakura gathered up the remaining wrappers and chucked them in the garbage can, "I don't see why not, just don't know when it will be. Like Grey said, we have a lot of shit to do tomorrow. Have to try and get that warrant, get everything set up with the surveillance groups and see that the two individuals approve of it. And, we have to cross our fingers and hope that maybe the wife will be alone at some point tomorrow at home so we can question her.'

Cringing slightly at the extensive amount of work the two detectives had to do Yami murmured through a yawn, "Good luck with that."

"Heh, funny," grunted Bakura, meandering slowly to the door.

"Get some rest you two, we will see you tomorrow," said Grey, quietly following Bakura out of the hospital room.

Silently Soren watched the two detectives leave, his eyes continued to remain on the door until he heard the elevator doors open and close and one of the two officers at the door gave him an unsettled look. Shaking his head he stifled a yawn, eyes turning to lock on Yami, nearly laughing at the fact that his friend was already out cold. The new dose of painkillers that the nurses had given him just before the two detectives had arrived must have finally kicked in. Smiling he stood up and moved to the edge of the bed, grabbing the folded extra blanket and draping it thickly over Yami to ward off the hospital chill. Checking the clock he sighed, it was time for him to leave as well, having promised Abby that he would be home before nine so that they could spend a few hours together before bed. She understood his need to stay with Yami intermitted throughout the day, but she still wanted to be able to see him.

Grabbing his coat and quietly yanking it on he left the hospital room, checking back once over his shoulder at Yami's sleeping for before following Bakura and Grey's path down to the elevator.

* * *

Needless to say Bakura wasn't very good at taking no for an answer. Huffing Bakura stormed out of the court house, to say that he was livid would be to put it lightly. It had taken them three days to get in to see this judge to ask for permission for a warrant to search Alphonse's home. During that three day wait they had wasted time a lot of needed time. The surveillance crews were set up, one monitoring a victim, the other following Alphonse's every waking move. An entire day had been spent trying to convince one of the remaining people on the list to allow for the police protection. It had been a waste, the pig headed woman had stuck firm to her denial of needing protection or being a possible future victim. Then, finally getting in to see the judge he had desperately hoped for the warrant to be approved.

"_I will not allow you to rip apart someone's home on the word of a very injured and drugged individual's identification of him in a sloppy photo line up." _

Snarling Bakura wrenched open the car door, barely noticing Grey scrambling around to get into the front seat first, and chucked his jacket it. Sitting down nonchalantly he covered his face with his hands and let out a infuriated growl, "Pompous son of a bitch!"

"Never tell him that," Grey muttered bitterly while turning on the car. "He didn't take you being nice with him very well."

"My photo line up wasn't sloppy!"

Holding back a laugh Grey glanced at his partner, "But it wasn't a proper photo line-up."

"That doesn't mean anything! Yami still identified him!"

"Then why don't we create a proper line up. Take the picture that we have of him from when he was arrested after freaking out at the surgeons when Devon died and do it right. The judge might say yes then," Grey insisted, shoulder checking before driving the car out into traffic.

Breathing deeply Bakura ran his hand through his hair, eyes tightly closed, "We don't have time. I can guarantee that Alphonse will go after the woman today that refused protection. We can surveillance her, but that's it, leaving her more vulnerable than the family doctor that said yes to protection. Alphonse has sped up, I don't think we have more than another day or two before he will try something again. That bastard judge won't let us see him again till tomorrow, if we get lucky and don't catch him on his lunch break again."

"It's all we have Kura'," Grey said exhaustedly. "We have to follow the laws that we swore an oath to. Lets go get the line up set up and put a rush on it, ask them to have if for tonight or tomorrow morning and we will take it to Yami when we go take him home tomorrow."

Grumbling in frustration Bakura gave an unwilling nod of consent, "Fine."

"Have you called the surveillance guys yet to see if they are watching Alphonse and the woman yet?"

"Yeah, just before we went into the court house. Nothing's happening so far, everything's pretty damn calm and quiet."

"Well, since everything is quiet lets go visit Yami quickly after we drop by the station then go back to your place and finish what we started so that its ready when we take him home tomorrow," Grey suggested.

Bakura shrugged, "Sounds good."

* * *

Taking the binder offered to him Yami glared up at the two detectives, "Why am I doing this again?"

Fidgeting slightly Bakura scratched the back of his head, eyes shifting back and forth between the officers at the door and Yami. "The one we did wasn't good enough for the judge, so he said no to the warrant. So, we are doing a proper one now."

Scowling Yami opened the binder. Silently he flipped through the ten pictures presented to him; all the individuals looked nearly identical. Every single one was wearing a blue shirt, was clean shaven and had similar shades of brown hair. It didn't sway him though when he fell across the identical photo that he had pulled out from the first line up. Breathing suddenly becoming hard he swivelled the binder around and handed it off to Bakura, "Happy now?"

Grabbing the binder Bakura heaved a deep breath, "Yes, sorry, this is the only way we can get that warrant to search his place."

"I know," Yami murmured, shoving back the sheets and easing his legs over the edge of the mattress. "Why didn't you warn me about it last night when you came to visit after seeing the judge?"

Scratching the back of his head sheepishly, Grey said, "Kinda forgot about it to be honest, had other things on our minds."

Shrugging, Yami grabbed the pile of clothes from the night stand and slowly placed his feet on the ground. He cringed a bit at the soreness in his limbs but waved off Grey's helping hand. Taking hold of the IV stand he moved to the restroom to change. "That's fine," he told them as he walked. "But could you please grab one of the nurses to take out the IV? I am going to change."

"Do you need any help?" Bakura asked with concern.

Yami shot Bakura a grin and replied, "I'm feeling much more mobile. The extensive amount of sleep I have been getting has done me a world of good. I'll be fine."

"Alright, but don't call for me when you fall and can't get up," grumbled Bakura with a withering look. Yami just shook his head and closed the door to the small restroom. With care and diligence he stripped the gown and got into the sweats and sweater he wore when admitted, wrinkling his nose at the smell of sweat. He left the arm with the IV out of the shirt, awaiting the nurse to take the needle out. Donning his heavy boots, he stepped back out of the confining space, relief showing on his face that the nurse was already there.

The check out went quickly, and the three climbed into Bakura's SUV and, radio tuned, drove off back toward Bakura's home, the soft tone of the broadcaster being their conversation. Yami watched his friends, not missing the mischievous grins the two detectives passed between each other, and he could feel his uneasiness rise. He furrowed his brow in suspicion, though he remained quiet throughout the trip. Again, waving off a helping hand, the youngest in the vehicle unbuckled his seatbelt, though with difficulty, and chuckles as Grey fell instep behind him as he went up the stairs.

Yami was rather stunned at how mobile he was, the sleep and antibiotics doing more than he gave them credit for. He was still sore and a bit slow, reflexes kind of dulled, but he could get around without help, though a bit unsteadily. He had done this some in the hospital, with Soren, though the nurses frowned and kept trying to put him back to bed, telling him he should not be up and about in his 'condition.' He still walked with a bit of a slouch, standing straight caused abdominal muscles to cry in pain, as did bending over too much. Taking off his shoes was an effort in and of itself. The wall came in useful in standing, and after a few swooning moments, he finally meandered into the living room. Grey's grin put him off, the Cheshire grin of one that knows too much, while Bakura leaned against the door frame of the guest room, with an equally large grin plastered to his features. Yami gave the both of them a slow level look, uneasiness tangible in his voice when he said, "What is going on?"

"Got a surprise for you," Grey piped up, leaping over the back of the couch and toward the guest room. Yami patted Reno on the head before shambling forward toward the two officers.

Closing on them slowly and with caution, Yami muttered, "You are making me think otherwise here. What are you two up to?"

"See for yourself," grinned Bakura, throwing open the door to the guest room and flicking on the light.

Wine coloured eyes glanced cautiously between the two before drifting to the open bedroom door, mouth falling slightly agape as he stared in. Hand darting out to hold him up he peered into the room absorbing the image in shock. The walls had been painted from the frightening yellow that had been there originally, to a light gray on all but one wall. The wall that the head of the bed was against had been painted a deep red, pulling out the colours of the simple but new bedding and curtains. All of his boxes had been emptied and the contents were sorted and dispersed throughout the room. A hand drawn family portrait, unscathed by the fire, hung above the bed with two hanging candles on either side of it. Walking into the room he moved up to the newly framed picture, emotions welling up within him as he ghosted a hand over it, "I thought this picture was destroyed in the fire," he whispered.

Leaning against the door frame Bakura shoved his hands in his pockets, head shaking as he said, "It was the only one of the pictures in your house that survived that was not in the fire proof boxes. Had to replace the frame and glass because of the smoke and water damage, but the picture was unscathed. Who did it, looks like its a couple of years old, you look like you're about ten."

"The original picture is old," Yami murmured, turning to stare at the two detectives. "I drew this a few years ago from an old family picture. Was assigned to do a scale drawing in art class and this is the picture that I picked. Mom framed it when I got it back from my teacher at the end of the year. She was so proud of it, I remember her fussing for hours on where to put it, Dad and I laughed at her the entire time."

"We thought you would want it up, or at least see it," Grey said quietly.

Nodding slowly Yami continued to peer around the room, "Why did you do this? You two have already done so much for me while barely knowing me, you didn't have to do this."

Sighing Bakura strode up to Yami, gently encouraging him to sit down on the bed, staring down at him intently he stated firmly but with kindness, "This is your home now Yami, I wanted to enforced that fact, and to give you your own haven. I don't want you camping out on that couch anymore like an over stayed unwanted family guest. I am not letting you try and move out as soon as you are healed a little more, I'll be damned if I let you put money into another place when I have two vacant rooms in this house that can be filled. And the other person that lives here, my uncle, has been bugging me for years to find a roommate to make living here for the two of us less lonesome, especially when he's off at the rigs for six months like he always is. If it makes you feel better, pay rent or something. But I will be damned if I let you move when this is the best place you will ever get. It will be easier on you, especially when you go back to school next year to do your fulltime EMT-P course. You can save up the money easily here, and you could support yourself here while going to school easier than if you own another place. I'd like for you to stay here....please."

Stunned Yami dropped his eyes to the floor, throat gone dry and vocal cords refusing to form any words he placed his hands on either side of him to stabilize himself. He felt the mattress shift as Bakura sat down beside him and rested a gentle hand on his shoulder. Lifting his eyes Yami stared at Bakura, mouth finally deciding to work, the word coming out in a whisper, "Why?"

"As cheesy as it sounds," Bakura said, a small smile gracing his features. "I consider you my friend Yami, one of my few, and friends help and support each other. That's exactly what I am doing, along with the fact that this massive house can get pretty damn lonesome when my uncle is up at the rigs."

Going quiet again Yami closed his eyes in thought, resting his head in his hands he absorbed all that had just been dropped in his lap. He didn't know how long he was quiet, but obviously long enough that Bakura gave him a small shake and asked a question that in his trance could not hear. Shaking his head slightly he returned his attention to the two detectives, a warm smile crossing his face as he made his decision, "I'll stay."

Any joyous comments from Grey or Bakura were shunned out when Bakura's cell phones rang loudly, all three jumping in shock at the volume and suddenness of it. The detective scrambled to pull out his phone, flipping it open he barked, "Hello."

"_Detective Bakura, we've got something that you'll want to see_," came the voice of a police officer, one of the ones surveillencing the suspected ninth victim.

"Probably not..."

"_The lady you have us watching, well she found us and came to yell at us. So, we drove away for bout an hour just to make her think we left. Well, when we came back, the front door was wide open..."_

Cursing loudly Bakura hung up the phone not waiting for what he knew was coming. Fists clenching he resisted the urge to slam it through the freshly painted wall. Standing up he stormed out into the living room, by passing the concerned looks he was receiving, and checked to make sure the police car had followed them home. Seeing the vehicle outside he yelled at Grey, "Time to go Grey, the fucking idiots watching over the victim left their post.'

"What!" came the cry from both Yami and Grey, the detective dashing out and the EMT following slowly after him.

Grabbing his jacket Grey questioned, "They left her, please tell me he didn't..."

"The fucker did," Bakura growled. "We could have had him today if that fucking judge didn't have his panties in a bunch. Probably wanted to go home and call his fuck buddy more than actually doing his job. Hurry up, I'll meet you in the car. And Yami, don't you dare leave this house or let anyone inside unless it's me."

"I...um....be careful," Yami said quickly, doubting that they two heard it as they barrelled into the garage the door slamming in his face.

**A/N:** Sorry this update took so long, hope it was worth the wait. R and R please :D


	9. Chapter 9

SILHOUETTE

_**A/N:**__ Thanks to Toxic Hathor and Schizophrenic Kitten (Jazz) for reviewing :D_

**CHAPTER NINE**

Pictures lay scattered across the coffee table. No semblance of organization was there, just sheer chaos. The images were grotesque, revolting, haunting and frightening. All nightmares that the human mind could ever create were mirrored in the mangled flesh of the body within the images. Gender was not determinable by the pictures, no were features. In perfect clarity the pictures depicted a body just as mutilated and desecrated as the eight victim, chest cavity a gaping oozing hole. Walls that were a soft yellow were now forever stained with crimson, something that bleach was never going to be able to completely remove. The room was destroyed, the furniture having been used as part of the person's torture. A note written in what appeared to be blood was in the middle of the pictures, protected by the evidence bag.

The pieces of the shattered mirror were playing like a moving again in Yami's mind as his shaky fingers tried to still themselves on the back of the couch. Snapping his gaze away he looked down at Bakura, worry rapidly enveloping him. The detective had yet to sleep, and it was apparent by the dark circles under his russet eyes. Normally pale skin was almost grey, and eyes normally lit with mischief were dark with fury and disgust. Gulping harshly Yami tentatively reached out, wincing when Bakura jumped and snapped around at him the instant his hand touched the man's shoulder. Retracting he stared on at Bakura cautiously, his hand still out to try and give a small amount of comfort, "Kura'?"

Breathing ragged Bakura ran his hand stiffly through his sweat damp hair, his entire body trembling both from the scare Yami gave him and from still being riled up from the crime scene. Forcing himself to take a somewhat calming breath he hung his head, hand covering his moist brow, "Sorry…didn't hear you get up."

Sensing that his hand wasn't going to be broken this time Yami placed his hand back on Bakura's shoulder, easing his way back up against the back of the couch, "Are you alright?" he whispered, even though he knew the answer.

With a show of reluctance Bakura shook his head, collapsing back he stared at the pictures before him, "The bastard is right under our damn fingers…yet I can't seem to clench my hands and grab his smug monstrous ass!"

Gently Yami gave the man's shoulder a comforting squeeze, holding back a sigh of relief at the near immediate relaxation that seemed to overtake the detective. "The search warrant?"

"Tomorrow," Bakura said. "Grey needed to sleep, so did I…but I can't."

Moving away Yami went into the kitchen, putting a kettle full of water on the stove to boil, intent on completely relaxing his friend. "What's bothering you?"

Scowling at his friends unnerving astuteness Bakura turned, resting his arms against the top of the couch as he watched Yami slowly putter around, "Aside from the fact that I can't seem to catch this bastard, nothing."

Yami shot him an incredulous look, "Try again."

Fidgeting where he sat Bakura growled then stood up, intent on keeping his worries his own, "I said nothing."

"Don't bullshit me Bakura," Yami snapped, pulling two cups out of the cupboard and placed them on the counter. "You're worried. I'm guessing it has something to do with the fact that there is one more victim left and you doubt the police protecting them because of what just transpired. Get it out of your damn system."

Snarling Bakura strode into the kitchen closing the cupboard that Yami had just taken a few bags of tea out of, "I'll get it out of my damn system tomorrow when I search that pricks house and find all his dirty little secrets. I will get it out of my damn system when that sadistic prick is behind bars and I can sleep at night knowing that I won't wake up to you dead in my house. I will get it out of my system when that sick son of a bitch can't come anywhere near you!"

Yami gave him a level stare, "He will not come near me, not for a while at least. Besides, you have police protection ghosting my ass along with you and Grey hovering over me. I am the least of your worries. You will catch him tomorrow after doing the search, and this will all be over. Now," he stated, pouring water into the mugs for tea, and handing one to Bakura, "get some rest. Take a sleeping pill or something if you need to."

Bakura took the cup with a glare, "What if I told you I don't think tomorrow will work out?"

"Then you would have finally told me what is really bothering you," smirked Yami, leaning on the kitchens island.

"Come here, read this," Bakura motioned Yami into the living room, and grabbed the evidence bag containing the note. "I don't like it."

Yami looked at it, and read it aloud, "I know you are watching me, Detectives, I know exactly what you two are thinking. It will not work. The pieces on the chess board are laid out in my favour, and I know every move the two of you will make. You can't stop me, so just sit back, watch and enjoy the show." He lowered the note and lifted his gaze to the detective.

"He's been watching you since you interrupted him," Bakura stated, taking the note and tossing it on the coffee table. "I didn't even realize it before, He's been one step ahead this entire time and it's because hes been watching us. When he is not living his normal routine with his wife and work, he's here listening to us. He was probably even keeping tabs on you while you were in the hospital. This guy is a fucking ghost and I cant believe I was so stupid as to not take that into account!"

"He won't be there tomorrow," clarified Yami. "He will go out of town for a few days, make us lose the trail on him with the surveillance teams, then come back after for the tenth victim. Once he is done he will vanish again, until he is ready to strike again."

Bakura clenched his fist and banged it on the table, "He is not getting away, and he is not coming back, I'll be damned if I let him. I will put out a country wide Canada wide warrant if I have to, I will pin him down!"

"What if he goes out of country?"

Bakura grinned, "He can't, if I put out an Canada wide warrant, he will be stopped and turned around at customs. Probably arrested too."

"Human smuggling, unmanned border crossings, inattentive customs agents…" Yami trailed off, ticking the items off on his fingers.

"Fuck!" Bakura turned and punched the wall, and through the drywall. He of course did this with his dominant hand. It, of course, still had a stab wound in it. Bakura blinked, stunned, adrenaline holding off the pain. "Son of a bitch…" he muttered.

Yami took slow and deliberate steps toward him, "Calm down, 'Kura. There is no need to get so worked up over this."

"It's my job, dammit!" He yelled, "I catch them, criminals, murders…It is my job to protect people. This fucker is stopping me from doing that! All because of an accident! He couldn't accept that there was no one to blame and is taking it out on you and other people sworn to help! I feel useless, it pisses me off that one man, just one man can do this when no one else ever has!" Bakura sighed, his voice continuing in a low growl, "My parents were repulsive drug addicts and alcoholics. They left me to fend for myself the moment I could walk, yet through all the shit they put me through till my uncle took me in, they never made me feel worthless because I knew I was better than them. I lasted going through private school being the 'unworthy' street scum. I showed every bully that they were nothing compared to me. Ended up being the only one to go to college out of the lot of them. No I am the one reminding them what they called me while I arrest them. Murder, assault, B&E and whatever else they've done. I have never been made to feel obsolete. I feel disgusting!"

Bakura slumped to his knees, and Yami was right beside him, supporting. The pain in his abdomen flared and he gasped as he took Bakura's weight on top of his own. He tried to force his friend to look at him. "Kura, you are not obsolete, or useless, or whatever. Look at me," he shook the detective to get his attention, and not getting it, used all his strength to spin the bigger man so that his back was to the wall. Bakura for his part, rested his head against the wall with half-lidded eyes, fists clenching and relaxing as he tried to sort out the rambling thoughts in his head.

Yami was slightly distraught at the actions and words he had heard, and was frantically trying to find something to bring his friend back. Looking around, the light crimson stain on the floor brought his attention to the detectives hand, the old wound reopened, and the scratches from punching through the wall bleeding onto the dark hardwood. It never did get checked out, just kept being re-bandaged by either Yami or Soren.

He gently took the damaged hand in his own, and began unwrapping the bloody bandage. In the corner of his eyes he saw Bakura turn and look at him with unfocused eyes. Yami removed his housecoat and began staunching the fresh opened wounds. He kept his attention on the hand, but began to speak softly, "We will get him. I have faith in that, you know what you are doing. You have determination and passion, something he stands no chance against. At this moment he may have the upper hand, but everything will come crashing down around him. The minute he fucks up, you will be there. He is trying to get you to feel like this. He is a manipulative bastard, are you going to let him do this to you? Are you going to let him win?"

"You are an eerie little bugger sometimes," Bakura muttered

"Hm?"

"Get out of my head. How is it you know the right thing to say at the right time?" He shifted on the floor to relieve some of the pressure on his hand. "You are right though, I will get him, I just hope it will be in time."

"For?" Yami asked, continuing to check on the hand. Placing the old gauze into Bakura's palm and forcing him to make a fist, Yami wrapped his housecoat more securely around Bakura's hand.

"Save the last person on the list, and you."

Yami shifted uneasily, then stood, using the wall as a brace. "Let's go get that re-bandaged."

Bakura was up faster, and cut Yami off from walking away, "I will not let him get to you."

"Bakura," Yami interjected before Bakura could continue. "I can take care of myself, worry about the last name on that list, not me."

"I don't care if this is 'your fight' or a 'problem you created' or whatever your reason for wanting to go solo. Friends help eachother."

Yami sighed in exasperation, and placed a hand on Bakura's shoulder. "Just drop it, ok? I will deal with it when I have to. Come on, lets bandage your hand and relax. Probably have to reheat the tea now though."

Bakura frowned, but did not pursue the topic. With minimal fuss, he allowed Yami to check his hand for more damage before it was wrapped in fresh bandages. Yami felt a small twinge at the loss of a good house coat, but it went to a good cause.

* * *

"_Yeah, apparently he left this morning, surveillance team followed them till they were outside the city limits"_ came Greys voice over the speaker phone

"Any ideas where he's going?" Bakura asked, slightly distracted as he watched Yami putter around the kitchen, the smells of cooking making his stomach rumble.

"_Vancouver most likely. Intel shows his wife has family out that way. No clue how long he will be gone for."_

"Dammit!" Bakura muttered, "How long to get a Canada wide warrant going on him?"

''_I can run it through the system now. An hour, two tops. But it won't be of much use Bakura, they won't actively keep tabs on him, they probably won't even arrest him because our reason for wanting him isn't concrete."_

Biting his lip, the detective ran his fingers roughly through his hair, "I know, but it's better than nothing. Did any of the toxiciligy reports come in yet?|

"_No dice. Coroner said four weeks after the fifth body came in, the tox lab is going to send them all together. Hopefully tomorrow though, and hopefully the judge will then give us the search warrant."_

Reno's cold nose bumped against Bakuras' hand, brown eyes begging for attention. The detective absent-mindedly scratched the canine between the ears. "Odd feeling like he is going to make us wait until at least the wife is home. Judge is an ass."

"_Well, let's hope against that. Anyway, get some rest, I'll see you in the morning."_

"Night," Bakura replied curtly and hung up the phone. Gently pushing Reno away, he strode into the kitchen, his hunger suddenly catching him. Looking to Yami, he asked, "What's for dinner?"

"Food, probably," came the semi-sarcastic reply, a small grin lighting the EMT's face. He stepped in front of Bakura, preventing him from entering the kitchen, "Go sit down, I will bring it out in a moment."

Scowling, Bakura retreated a step, "Worse than a mother," he muttered as he turned and walked back to the couch. The clatter of bowls and clinking of utensils made his stomach protest some more, and the shuffling of feet toward him made his head turn. "You were right, you know,"

"Gathered that," stated Yami, handing Bakura a bowl of rice and steaming curry.

"Him and his wife left, heading for British Columbia. Apparently, she has family along the coast and we are assuming they are going there for a visit," he expounded, not taking a moment to breathe before beginning to practically inhale the food.

Sitting down and eating with far more grace, Yami murmured between mouthfuls, "Pre-planned trip probably, convenient."

"Hm," Bakura agreed. "Damn bastard has all the luck."

"It'll run out eventually."

"Hopefully," scoffed Bakura, stuffing down the last few bites of dinner, holding out his bowl. "Is there any more?"

Smiling in amusement Yami pointed to the kitchen, "Yes, unless you don't want any for tomorrow."

"Nope, too damn hungry," said the detective, standing up and shuffling back into the kitchen, a huge goofy grin on his face as he dished out another heaping portion. "Besides, I can't cook anything that is not in a box or extremely simple, so a nice home cooked meal is always greatly appreciated."

"Can your uncle cook?"

With a shrug Bakura meandered back into the living room, "Sort of, very much a country boy. He only ever really cooked meat and potatoes or something to that effect. Healthy, just nothing fancy."

"Well, maybe it's a good thing I am here and am stuck out of work for at least another month or two," Yami said taking his bowl into the kitchen and putting it in the dishwasher. "I'll cook; I'm used to it anyway. Dad didn't know how not to burn things, he was never allowed near the stove."

Quirking a brown Bakura mowed down his second bowl of food, licking the spoon he asked, "How much longer are you planning on staying up."

"Not long. Pretty tired considering I have barely done anything yet today. Probably going to have a bath and read for a bit, why?"

"Wondering," said Bakura, grabbing the pots from the stove and shoving them in the sink. Flicking on the tap he allowed the sink to fill with water and soap. "I'll probably be up for a little bit longer, slept too long this afternoon. I'll be quiet though if you're going to sleep."

"Thanks," Yami said quietly, turning he disappeared into the bathroom after quickly grabbing a book from his room.

Bakura absently watched the EMT before the bathroom door closed. Sighing he quickly washed the dishes and headed for the basement. He hadn't gone at any of his weight equipment or his punching bag in a while, now was as good a time as any to get back into it. It would also vent out some unwanted frustrations in a less destructive way than putting holes in walls.

* * *

Bakura had been right. They had gone the next day to do their second attempt at a warrant. The judge had agreed, but with the condition that someone had to be home when they did it. He did not want them shuffling around in the house without permission from the home owner, the judge clearly showing his doubts that Alphonse was in fact the killer. So, they twiddled their thumbs and waited.

Over the next week the surveillance teams constantly reported in, both saying the same thing. All clear. An obvious statement considering the perpetrator was out of province, a fact that was rapidly driving Bakura batty. He hated the waiting game, he went stir crazy sitting around and hoping for something, he did not have the patience for it. The toxicology reports eventually came in, revealing to them nothing that they already did not know. There was no proof that Alphonse had been there for the first six victims. No blood, no hair, no clothing fibres...nothing. He was a ghost. A random phantom of destruction that seemed to cause chaos and yet never leave any inkling towards the fact that he caused it.

Bakura, Grey and Yami had finally gone through all the evidence in the house and properly organized it. So, instead of the heaping pile of papers, files and pictures on the table it was four neat boxes labelled with what was in each. Much to Yami's satisfaction that meant he could actually force Bakura to eat his meals, along with whatever random guests they had, at the table instead of dispersed in the living room. During that time, Bakura had also noticed that as Yami's mobility increased, so did the sudden cleanliness of his home. Yami had already taken over kitchen duty, but cleaning was never something he was expected to do. Yet, any time Bakura disappeared during the day to work at the homicide unit with Grey he would come home to the house being significantly cleaner than it was when he left. He shrugged it off, thankful that at least one of them was somewhat versed in keeping a house in some semblance of clean.

Easing out of the shower Yami, while wiping water from his eyes, reached out and grabbed his towel from the rack. Drying off he peered around the bathroom and winced a bit, the room was filled with steam, apparently his shower had been hotter than he thought it was. Then again, he was freezing. Wrapping the towel around his waist he grabbed his housecoat from where it was hanging on the door handle. He had rigorously scrubbed it after he had used it to staunch Bakura's bleeding hand, thankful that it was already a deep red colour so no stains showed if there were any. Opening the door he scooted into his bedroom, hissing at the sudden blast of cold air that hit him along with nearly tripping over Reno where the dog lay at his door.

Yanking on socks and boxers he rummaged around in the closet and dresser finding the new sweaters and jeans that Elenor had bought for him the other day. She had insisted on getting him more clothes, and if he hadn't shoved his bank card and pin number into her hand she would have paid for it all. Though, he was extremely thankful that she had, all that there was in his wardrobe till than was sweats and pyjamas. Pulling out a pair of jeans and a thick sweater he quickly got dress, grateful at the warmth they immediately gave him. He scowled the instant that he his jeans shifted down, reality and the words others had already said to him finally having some merit. Until now, because of wearing baggy clothing, he had never noticed how much weight he had already dropped. Skinny as he was he did not want to imagine just how much more emaciated he probably looked now. Grabbing a belt from the drawer he weaved it through the loops while walking out into kitchen intent on making some tea before Soren arrived.

Not hearing any sounds in the house but his own foots steps and Reno's echoing ones he was hopeful that Bakura was still out. The detective had been right pissed when he found out exactly what the argument was about that he and Grey had interrupted at the hospital. Yami had heaved an immense sigh of relief when Grey arrived to take Bakura to the office, cutting off any of the detectives attempts to keep him from going. Eric's birthday had been planned months in advance, all four had collaborated on when they were off together close to the day had picked a bar and promised not to miss it. So, 'gibbled' or not Yami was still determined to go, even if he couldn't drink with everyone else he had promised Eric that he would come, and so he would.

Making a quick cup of tea he sat down at the kitchen table, grabbing the newspaper that was there he flipped it open and quietly began to skim through the pages. He could hear Reno beside him chewing on the newest bone that Jack and Elenor had brought for him. This time at least it was one that was taking him more than an hour to chomp through. He was so absorbed in his reading and listening to Reno that he did not see the headlights break through the darkness outside, nor the sound of a car door slamming and the front door opening.

"Good, you came to your senses," Bakura grunted taking off his boots, not noticing Yami's startled and nervous reaction to his abrupt arrival.

"Um, haven't left yet, waiting for Soren to get here," Yami murmured, downing the last of his tea.

Scowling Bakura hung up his jacket, "You're not well enough to be going to a bar Yami."

"I'm not that bad! Besides, I won't be drinking, dancing or any of those things, I know my body can't handle it right now. The most moving I will probably be doing is playing pool," protested Yami.

Dropping nonchalantly onto the couch Bakura glared across at him, watching the young EMT walk over to stand by the warm fireplace. "I don't like it."

Staring at Bakura incredulously Yami stated stiffly, "Alphonse is still in B.C, nothing bad is going to happen. I can't stay holed up in this place forever."

"I don't care, I've got a bad feeling," the detective said shortly.

Sighing Yami rubbed his neck in displeasure, "Look, I promised I would go. Besides, Alex, Soren and Eric will all be there, and it's a public place. I doubt anything will happen there."

"Promise to come home right after?"

"Are you my mother?" Yami retorted.

"Wrong parts."

Rolling his Yami stalked to the front door, grabbing his coat and shoes he shoved them on, sick of the conversation already. Checking that he had his keys and new cell phone he moved to exit the house and wait for Soren out there, but a firm hand on his shoulder stopped him. Glancing over his shoulder at the detective he quirked a brow in question.

"Just, come home alright. Call me when you are on your way?"

Giving a nod of acquiescence Yami turned the door handle, "Will do."

"Alright, have I guess," Bakura said, a small grin on his face. "Get a picture of Soren wasted for me will you?"

Chuckling Yami stepped outside, "I'll try, see you in a few hours."

Locking the door Bakura watched through the bay window as Soren's car pulled up and Yami jumped in. He could see Soren give a small wave, returning the gesture he sighed as the car drove away, the heavy feeling in his gut increasing when he lost sight of the vehicle. Something wasn't right, and he was having a hell of a time putting his foot down on it. Scowling he threw some leftovers into the microwave, making the excuse that his rebelling stomach was because of being hungry.

The food, though delicious, did not solve his stomach problems as he so hoped. He couldn't shove the nagging feeling out of him, even exercising for an hour did not help him forget. Even the rare amusement of chucking snowballs for the dog to chase did not help. Finally, he resigned himself to a shower.

Standing beneath the hot spray, he leaned his head against the cool tile walls, eyes closed in a slightly relaxed state. The only sounds he could hear was the running water, Reno chucking his bone around in the living room and his own breathing. It was oddly soothing, had he the option, he would fall asleep in the tub. Sighing, he opened his eyes and reached for the shampoo. Vigorous rubbing through his thick mane, he rinsed, then rapidly finished the rest of his cleaning. He was startled but not surprised when he heard the door knob rattle, and Reno came bounding in uninvited. Bakura was not yet in the habit of locking doors behind him. At least Yami had warned him of the dog's odd ability.

Drying off fast to ward off the evening chill, he clambered into the pyjamas he brought with him. Absently patting Reno, he made a quick round, lights off and locking doors. Satisfied, he left his bedroom door open for Reno and went to bed. Reno had already learned that the bed was off limits, and opted instead to sleep on the floor till Yami was home. Bakura continued to try and ignore the nagging feeling he had, dozing lightly as he listened for Yami's return.

* * *

He had spent days looking for the perfect place. It needed the perfect light in the city dark, the right amount of cover and the exact needed angle for what he needed. There were barely any houses in this area. The lots were immense and on the edge of town, thus meaning that each house was just out of vision range and earshot. Luckily, his targets barely deviated from their normal spot. The days were active, the targets talked to people, roamed around, made conversation. Too active, too unpredictable. The nights were opposite. Coffee, books, newspapers and portable DVD players. Sitting ducks.

The air was calm. This was good, less chance of a miss. The area was spread out, no home within earshot of where he was. He had left his car at the bottom of the hill, undetected, and roamed toward his targets through the bushes and under the cover of trees. The glow of the DVD they watched glared, blinding them to the outside world, the sounds of some stoner movie poisoning their eyes and ears. His angle gave access to both, the target in the back slightly obscured by the first, but if he was fast, he could remove both with no problems.

Checking his weapon was loaded, and the silencer was properly attached, he then donned his leather gloves. Slowly, there was no rush. His breathing was calm, hands steady, old training coming back to him, keeping the thrill of his desires in check. Resting the butt of the rifle on his shoulder, he lifted the brim of his hat slightly to ensure his vision was not obscured in any way, then looked into the scope. The night vision he had brought was not needed, the glare of the obscene movie gave him all the light he needed.

With a thought towards his wondrous luck, Alphonse finally fingered his trigger. His targets lined up cleanly in his scope. His breath came quick, so he closed his eyes a moment, slowing it and concentrating. Everything was going so well to this point; he needed to relax, as to not botch this up. Breathing slowed and he once again checked his scope. One of the targets had shifted slightly, but that did not matter. He was poised silent as a panther, yet internally as he gently squeezed the trigger he was twitching with pleasure. It was a rush, a euphoric high that he practically lived to feel now; it was something almost as addicting and amazing as sex.

Inching the trigger back, he could feel the hammer click and release the first projectile. He did not even need to see it hit, he just had the hunter's instinct, he knew. The small crack of spider-webbing glass and the spray of red that showed in his scope was just icing on the cake for him. The second bullet was released, and the other target did not even have the chance to scream before he too was finished.

"Beautiful," he muttered, rising silently from the underbrush and securing the rifle. It went over his shoulder and a malicious grin spread on his face. He looked at the house where he could see his final prize wandering alone, turning off lights, checking everything was secure. Like that would stop him, there was no door nor window nor barricade secure enough to hold him back from his goal. The prize was alone, family out of town, scared. They knew he was coming, but his prize was ignorant of the threat that was coming for him. He jogged up to the car, where the targets lay dead, pleased to see that the prize was trying to get a good look outside. Panicked looks turned to fear, and the prize opened the door. Slippered feet pattered their way down the walk, and a shocked gasp made him smile. The killer rose, rifle out and pointed at the man's head. Seeing the doctors mouth open to scream, Alphonse smiled, and stated in an almost soothing tone, "Shh, I wouldn't do that if I were you, someone might hear you, and we can't have that, now can we?"

The doctor quivered, shaking his head quickly. Smiling, Alphonse came around the car and motioned his prize inside, "Good, let's go have a little chat, shall we? We have much to discuss."

* * *

He could hear it. The annoying yet distant ring of his cell phone. Grumbling he rolled over, ignoring the sound as best he could. Whoever was calling could wait, his sleep was far more important. Burying his head in his pillow he shut out the sound, allowing himself to drift back to sleep. Within seconds the home phone rang beside his head, deafening him. Stunned he stat bolt upright, heart pounding as he nearly fell out of the bed reaching for the phone, not many knew this number, and those that did generally did not call to chit chat. Shoving the sheets off of him he grunted out somnolently, "What?"

"_We've got a problem Kura',"_ said Grey, voice panicked. "_The surveillance officers at the family doctors house are not responding to any of my phone calls. I just got dispatch to try and radio them along with any officers in the area, nothing. They've dropped off the radar; we have no clue why they are not responding!"_

Eyes snapping wide Bakura stumbled out of bed frantically gathering his clothes. Beginning to pull them on with one hand, and great difficulty, he questioned, "How long have they been out of contact?"

"_They last radioed in three hours ago, and that was right after I called to check on them."_

"Shit!" Bakura cursed, scrambling out of his room and towards the front door. "The doctor lives within ten minutes of me. Send all the available units there and meet me there, pronto! Three hours is plenty of time for that son of a bitch to kill."

"_Alright, just don't do anything rash, wait for back up!"_

"Yeah yeah, I know, I'd be a hypocrite if I didn't listen," Bakura grunted, shoving on his shoes haphazardly and yanking his coat on. "I'm out the door, meet me there, I'll have my cell."

"_Ok, be careful."_

Scrambling to grab his keys and jacket he shoved them all in his pockets, barely locking the door behind him as he sprinted out and to his SUV. His heart rate was through the roof as he carelessly jumped into the car and roared the engine, swearing profusely when he realized that it had snowed. Cranking the heat he rapidly brushed and scrapped all the snow of the vehicle, and then chucking the snow brush into the back seat he raced off towards the doctor's residence. He went off of memory, unable to see any signs through the massive amount of snow pelting down on the streets of Calgary. Finally turning around the last corner he rammed the gas to push the vehicle up the small hill leading to the doctor's place.

The retching feeling of worry in his gut was back with a vengeance, forcing his hands to shake as he pulled up the last bit of the hill. The moment the house and police car was in his vision he stopped and yanked up the park break. Taking his badge, a pair of latex gloves, a flashlight and his gun out of the glove box he stepped out of the SUV into the raging snow storm. Holding out the gun in front of him he peered through the snow at the police car, there were lights flickering within as if from a movie, he could faintly make out the image of the two officers slumped in their seats as if asleep. Easing his breathing a bit he checked behind him at the sound of sirens, seeing the lights and the cars beginning to pull up the hill he focused his attention back on the car in front of him. Taking cautious steps he kept his gun pointed and ears listening for any sounds, his eyes glancing around him in an attempt to see any attackers before they hit him.

He made the final few steps to the driver's side of the car when the backup vehicles parked near him. Taking a preparatory breath he made the final step and peered into the frosted window, rather, what was left of it. The glass had been blown apart, the missing particles scattered on the still figures within. Closing his eyes in rage he lowered his gun. Both officers were dead, gunshots through their temples permanently silencing them, they never had a chance. Jaw clenching he turned to the officers running towards him, he pointed to each separately delegating duties, "Go call for the forensics team. You're with me, we need to look through the house, hope that the bastard is still in there."

"Roger," said the one before dashing back to the car ready to radio for the forensics team.

Satisfied that the other officer was doing as asked Bakura trudged towards the house. Not seeing any tracks he allowed a little faint flicker of hope that Alphonse was still in the house, but he held his breath nonetheless. The man was too crafty; he probably exited another way or early enough in the storm that his tracks were filled in. But he could hope. Snapping on the pair of latex gloves he reached out for the door handle, holding his gun up and checking to make sure that the officer was at the other side of the door in the same position. Catching the other police officer dash up and kneel down beside his partner Bakura glanced between the two of them, counting down quietly from three making sure that they were following him. Turning the handle he eased it open, silent while the two officers checked their corners before entering slowly into the vast open floor.

Stepping in Bakura clicked on his flashlight, guiding it in the same direction that he pointed his gun. His stomach turned at the smell that permeated the house, the thick smell of someone lost. Holding back the need to puke he trudged on behind the officers, flashlight running over every surface of the house. They split up, him moving into the kitchen while the two cops ascended the stairs. The damn house looked barely disturbed, much like the last two houses, and if he was correct, then the crime scene would be identical. The body would be upstairs, probably in the bedroom unless he decided that he liked the handcuffs and towel rack bondage idea enough to try it again, and the note would be in the kitchen. He cared more about the note at the moment, and if there was no note, Alphonse was probably still in the house.

Through his haze of navigating through the kitchen in near darkness he could hear more sirens and the familiar sound of Grey's frantic walk. Stopping in his search he flickered his flashlight towards the entrance to the kitchen, pleased when his partner appeared in the doorway. Not saying a word Bakura averted and found his way to the table, hands beginning to tremble as he spotted a piece of paper with red writing resting delicately in the center. Reaching out with his gloved hand he picked it up, nearly dropping it as his eyes soaked in the blood written words.

"510 Heritage Driver Southwest."

Grey stared at him blankly for a moment, mind racing as he tried to remember where that address was. Then it clicked as Bakura slammed the note back down on the table and barrelled past him and out of the house. Mouth falling agape hen pivoted and dashed after yelling at the officers as he went, "Watch the house and wait for the forensics team, we have something more important to deal with!"

"What's more important?" demanded one of the officers from upstairs, his face pale, having clearly found the victim.

Grey stuttered to a stop and glared at him, "His next target."

**A/N:** _Well, hope no tomatoes or anything like that mysteriously hits me, hope it was worth the wait!_ _Final line subject to change._


	10. Chapter 10

SILHOUETTE

_**A/N:**__ Thanks to Toxic Hathor, Kiki2222, Junki, punktheway, Blackened Gem, EgyptianSoul.88 for reviewing, you guys are all awesome! _

**CHAPTER TEN**

The sound of a pool cue snapping into a ball and barrelling it into the others on the table filled the corner of the Rusty Cage bar, along with the frustrated but playful yells of defeat. The eight ball was sunk, hundred dollars being sorted out between the two from the losing team, Soren holding out his hands to them.

"Show me the money baby!"

"You're such a freak," chuckled Alex, shoving the bills into Soren's hands. "The only reason why you are another fifty bucks richer is that Yami is one hell of a pool player."

"Hah, ye of little faith. I am at the peak of drunken-pool-ology, I am holding my own in this game equally with my awesomely sober and amazing comrade," Soren laughed, moving over and gingerly wrapping an arm around Yami's shoulders. "Now, drink down those beer boys, you have yet again lost to the awesome duo of pool champions."

Picking up the two beers they had brought over Eric handed the other off to Alex, "The sad part is, you sound more drunk than the two of us and yet you have had far less alcohol."

"No, he's just crazy to begin with, the liquor doesn't help," teased Alex, putting his beer to his lips before tipping back his head, rapidly chugging back the liquid, Eric mimicking him. Slamming the drink down he watched Soren look it over to approve that he drank it all before meandering over to stand beside Yami, whom was leaning against the pool table watching them with an amused smirk. "How you holding up over here mister sober."

"Fine," Yami answered, reaching around and grabbing the soda that he had. "Waiting for the right moment to catch either of those two goofs off guard and video tape them."

"Aha, blackmail," Alex laughed. "Good thinking."

"Are we still going to order those shots we looked up for Eric?"

"Heck yeah!" said Alex, grinning like a devil. "Matter of fact, I'll go do that now. Don't really want to lose to you two anymore, only brought enough cash for three games of total defeat. Grab a table?"

"Sure,"

A few minutes later, Alex returned, laden with a tray of small shots. Grinning, he looked back over his shoulder at a group of women gathered around the bar, "Sorry it took me so long, got a bit distracted. Think the bartender was too."

Eric and Soren chuckled, the former looking over at the bar as well, "Good distraction though. What do you have there?"

Alex set out a round, a purplish one with what looked like a globule of brain matter in it, "Brain Haemorrhage. I think this should be the official EMT drink!" With that he downed the shot, and the others following suit, save Yami, who was kicked back in a chair with a smirk on his face.

Soren started setting out the second round, seeing energy drinks in a glass, he looked around the tray, "Hey, Alex? I think you fucked up here, there's no Jager!"

"It's right here, dummy. But this isn't just a Jager Bomb," Alex leaned in close, as if sharing a secret with the table, "There's vodka in there too." Swiftly, the drinks were imbibed, and Alex was handing out the next round.

Eric grabbed his shot and held it up, "I don't care what it is," throwing the liquid into his mouth and swallowing. His eyes went wide for a moment before he started coughing.

Alex grinned, "Figures you would do that with the straight alcohol shot, eh?" Eric flipped him off and kept coughing; Soren laughed and quaffed his shot as well, grimacing against the taste.

"If it tastes so bad, why bother?" Yami asked, his eyes full of mirth

Eric, recovering from the coughing, looked at the smaller man and grinned, "Cause its fun!"

Alex set two glasses in front of everyone, except himself, offering one to Yami, "These are supposed to be actually rather tasty, sour apple."

Yami waved it off and Alex shrugged, "Suit yourself," and downed both his shots in succession, watching the others do the same, smiling at the sourness.

Chuckling Yami downed the last of the glass of soda from earlier, placing it back down he asked, "When's the band supposed to start playing?"

Shaking off the spinning that the round of drinks had caused Eric stated, "They were supposed to have started at ten. So, an hour ago," he finished while checking his watch. "Doesn't really look like they are going to be starting anytime soon. Probably won't be starting till we leave. Is the decided time still twelve for everyone?"

"It's your birthday," Alex said, flagging down one of the servers to order something less harmful. "You decide when it's home time. Just have to make sure that over there is still alert enough to drive us."

"I'm fine," Yami lied, the exhaustion and soreness that he was beginning to feel thankfully not noticed by his inebriated comrades. "I've been sleeping like crazy when I'm not sitting around on my ass."

"Still, don't want to impede on your healing time," Eric said, placing an appreciative hand on Yami's arm. "I'm really really happy that you even came. Haven't really had the chance to see you at all in the last couple of weeks. So it's a relief to see that you're healing well."

"Yeah, you've had us worried. Everyone at the hall won't stop asking how you are," Alex added, Soren and Eric nodding in agreement. "At least now I can give them an honest answer."

Sighing Yami murmured, "Sorry, I haven't really been that social, or mobile."

"Its fine Yami, we understand," Eric assured, sitting back and smiling. "Now that we know that you are doing better though we might drag you out a little more, at least for coffee and such."

Smiling Yami shifted in the chair, moving to stand up. "Sounds good, I'm bored stiff up there when Bakura isn't home. But, I'm going to step outside for some fresh air. How much longer are we staying?" He asked, pulling on his jacket, quietly noticing Soren getting up and doing the same.

"Not long, maybe down a few glasses of water. I'd say half hour tops," stated Eric, turning as a server finally came up to the table. Quickly ordering several glasses of water for all of them he averted back to Yami. "Since the band isn't going to play when we thought there is no point in staying. That, and Alex and I work tomorrow night, we still need to get some sleep."

"Sounds good," said Soren stepping up beside Yami. "I'll go out with him, make sure he doesn't get lost."

Yami quirked a brow at him, "More like the other way around."

"Anyway," continued Soren, hands placing themselves on Yami's shoulders and steering him outside. "We'll be right back."

Shuffling through the massive crowd of people Yami and Soren finally made it outside, both breathing a sigh of relief as they stepped out into the parking lot. Neither cared that it was snowing heavily now, both remained silent as they trudged over to the side of the building that was blocking the wind. Closing his eyes Yami leaned against the wall, breathing in the sweet cold night time air that wasn't permeated with smoke, sweat and liquor. Hearing Soren mimic him he opened his eyes, peering across at his friend, "Mother hen."

"What, someone has to watch your ass!" Soren grunted. "I may be tipsy but I'm not blind. You're tired and your painkillers have to be wearing off by now. Besides, we don't have a damn clue when that guy...Alphonse...is going to be back."

Scowling in displeasure Yami shoved his hands into his pockets toward off the cold, "He won't go after me until he kills the doctor, which has yet to happen. I'm fine for now. Besides, it's an open public place; I doubt he would be bold enough to do anything here. Home is the place that I am most vulnerable, and Bakura's there, I'm safe."

Frowning deeply Soren sighed, "I'm allowed to worry, stop trying to discredit me."

"I'm not," said Yami, beginning to shiver a bit. "Just trying to assure you that it'll be fine for now."

"Hmm," Soren grumbled, not entirely convinced by his friend's words. He was immediately distracted by the muffled sound of a ringing cell phone, knowing that it was not his he peered across at Yami as his friend scrambled to answer the phone.

"Hello?"

"_Yami, get your ass home right now!"_

Stunned Yami gave Soren a look of complete disbelief, "Bakura?"

"_Yes you moron, it's me. Get your ass home; it's not safe where you are."_

"And why not?"

"_He's back; he just killed the doctor maybe two hours ago. The note he left this had the address of the bar you are at. Get your ass home now!"_

Yami's vocal cords refused to work as he digested the blurted information. Mouth falling agape he stared across at Soren, about to shove his friend back towards the bar when something hard and cold rammed into his side re-cracking healing ribs. Breath knocked from his lungs and stopping the pained cry from leaving his lips he collapsed to his knees, vision spotting black as he dropped the phone barely hearing Bakura's cries from it over the wind.

Soren had no time to react, never mind even yell out in shock, before Alphonse was in front of him metal bar swinging. He tried to dodge it, leaping backwards, but his feet slipped in the growing amount of slick snow and the metal bar careened into his hip. Crying out he felt his leg buckle underneath him with the force of the blow, falling onto the pavement. Writhing he gasped against the pain and lifted his gaze, watching Alphonse advance back on Yami, his injury hindering him from even moving to stop him. "Don't touch him!"

Immediately Alphonse averted, eerie eyes staring hard at Soren, annoyance clear in them. Taking slow, almost teasing steps back he pointedly swung the rod at his side playfully, "And what are you going to stop me?"

Quivering under the killer's cold gaze Soren forced out, surprised when his voice held steady, "Whatever I can."

"Oh really," Alphonse almost whispered, devilish grin crossing his face. Without warning he wound out, swinging the rod at Soren's face, stopping an inch away from the young man's quaking mouth and wide eyes. "You will do nothing if you value living. I have no qualms removing people that get in my way. Besides, if you die, you won't even be able to drag your sorry ass into that building and attempt to convince your little friends to come after me."

Remaining silent Soren glanced at Yami, seeing unfocused eyes and the violent shaking he bit his lip. He was Yami's only chance, and all he could do was crawl into the bar and get help. Feeling useless and pathetic he dropped his gaze to the ground, Alphonse acknowledging his silent surrender by turning back to Yami.

The black haze in Yami's vision lessened in time for him to see Soren shaking fearfully as Alphonse moved the bar away from his face. Panicked he reached for his cell phone, not seeing Alphonse advancing on him. Grabbing hold of the phone he made to yell into it, but it never reached his mouth. Alphonse hit it out of his hand, snapping his head up in disbelief as the killer's hand gripped his throat and yanked him up slamming him against the wall. Gasping he glared at Alphonse, chest heaving against the burning pain in his side.

Alphonse grinned; tapping the metal pole against Yami's side he leaned forward a bit, whispering into the young man's ear much like he had done before, "Let's take a little walk shall we."

"Fuck you," Yami managed to gasp out through the pressure on his throat, squirming a bit in Alphonse's hold, trying to ignore the pain in his ribs.

Grin widening Alphonse exaggerated the tapping of the pole against Yami's thigh, "Tisk tisk, such language, don't make me have to hurt your friend because of your vulgar behaviour. Now, my recommendation would be that you be good, shut your mouth, and quietly do as you are told."

Ruby eyes snapped in Soren's direction, his friend wincing through the waves of pain as he tried to lever himself up against the wall, voice pleading, "Don't."

Throat going dry Yami averted his gaze, forcing himself to ignore Soren's pleading protests he bit his lip and bowed his head, a silent acquiescent. Immediately the pressure on his throat lessened, allowing him to at least inhale a little more air. The hand on his throat moved to take a firm hold on the sleeve of his jacket. Alphonse did not give him the chance to reconsider; he yanked him towards the main part of the parking lot. Holding back his want to fight, to resist, he remained submissive outwardly, but his mind was racing. Through the corner of his eye he could see Soren finally heaving himself upright, stumbling to the entrance to the bar, probably trying to get to Alex and Eric. Ignoring the constant tugging as Alphonse pulled him towards an unfamiliar car near the exit he held back a grin. The only reason Alphonse had him being compliant was Soren's safety, safety that he was about to return to. Eyes subtly darting around him he took full stock of the parking lot, memorizing it before he was pushed up against the car. Continuing to remain docile he watched Soren disappear into the bar, along with observing Alphonse pull out his car keys, never letting go of his jacket. A mistake or an underestimation.

Alphonse could feel Yami shifting, a sensation that through his light grip on the coat felt more like shivering than what the young man was actually doing. Through the corner of his eye he noticed that something was off, turning the key he unlocked the car door before pulling it open, deciding then to see what exactly the EMT was doing. He did not make it. A hard familiar fist threw an awkward punch, connecting with his face and knocking him off balance, feet slipping on the rapidly growing layer of wet snow. His grip slipped a bit on the jacket, but was not relinquished. His strength on said grip was instantly tested as Yami reached out with his free hand and tightly pushed his fingers into his wrist, hitting a pressure point dead on and caused his elbow to buckle and fingers to twitch.

Yami took advantage of the weakness, wrenching his arm out of Alphonse's grip. With that arm now free he bent it and rammed his elbow between the man's shoulders, keeping Alphonse off balance and further slipping in the snow. His side seized, ribs being jostled by the harsh movements he was making. Ability to run greatly hindered he nearly collapsed, one of his hands coming up to gingerly touch the damage, cringing when it caved under his digits. The seconds that his pain had cost him in running cost him the brief bit of freedom that he had. Alphonse's arm snapped out and around his neck, putting pressure on his shoulders and forcing him to his knees, the tightness of the man's arm around his throat began to choke him cutting off his ability to breathe. Coughing he couldn't even scream when Alphonse used his other hand to pound against his damaged ribs. Vision going black again he barely heard Alphonse whisper in his ear, voice leaking with fury, "Don't do that again, or you will regret it."

He felt his consciousness wane, nausea hitting him hard as he was lifted then chucked by the burly psycho into the car. Without the wherewithal to struggle or protest he watched with returning vision as he was strapped into the car, door slamming in his face. Hearing Alphonse enter the car he let his gaze float over to blearily watch the man turn on the car and drive out onto the road. He was wheezing, he could faintly hear it through the haze of his drifting consciousness. His asthma was acting up, protesting against the new injuries and the near thirty seconds he went without breathing before Alphonse chucked him in the car. Chest burning in panic against his lack of breathing forced him to stay awake, focussing on where they were.

They were on Heritage Drive heading west towards 14th street. He recognized the intersection; old locomotives were displayed on both sides promoting Heritage Park nearby and the Canadian Pacific Railway. But they turned the opposite direction from going to the park, instead heading south. Eyes blearily peering around he immediately noticed the missing lock knobs, they looked as if they had been sawed off, cutting off his ability to unlock the car door and bail out. The handle to roll down the window was also broken off, stopping him from trying to escape that way. Shifting he noticed that his seatbelt was ungodly tight, he couldn't move from the position that he was in. Ghosting his hand down the side of the seat he held back a curse. The man had thought of everything to keep him in the car, even the latch to help him lower the seat back was sawed off, the rough edged cutting into his finger tips. This car was not the same one as what he had seen those few weeks back, and if it was it had a paint job and the bullet damage was gone. The bastard had taken every precaution obviously.

Chancing it he subtly glanced at Alphonse, keeping his head forward while he did so. The metal bar was in his lap, ready to use if needed. A small smile was on his face, faint and cocky. Green eyes were lit up every time they went by a street light; they were cold as always, cold and bright. If Yami could make a guess the man was ecstatic, but far too reserved to show it.

Trying to ease his breathing he forced himself to sit still and wait, watching intently for every turn that they made as he tried to judge where they were going.

* * *

Kneeling down Alex picked up the fallen cell phone from the ground, brushing off the snow from it he peered down at it. They shouldn't have let them go outside, shouldn't have let them leave. Cursing he squeezed the cell phone tightly before rising to his feet, "Do we have any idea what direction they went in?"

Eric stepped up next to him, head shaking, "Not a damn clue."

"How's Soren?"

Sighing Eric looked back towards where Soren was sitting in the car, the door wide open. "Sore, he can't really move that leg; he hasn't stopped cursing and apologizing."

Shoving the cell phone into his pocket Alex walked off towards Soren, "We should check his leg, we are way too drunk to drive, just have to hope that the detective that Soren was talking about will find him."

"...I stopped and watched through one of the windows to see what way they were going," Soren's voice broke through their conversation, voice frantic as he talked to Bakura. "They headed down Heritage towards fourteenth."

"_There's nothing that way, nothing except residential and the hospital, depending on which way they went."_

"Sorry, I couldn't follow them, neither can Eric or Alex. Yami was our DD, none of us are sober enough to drive, at least not safely. I just...fuck!" Soren cursed, covering his face with his free hand, flinching unwillingly when felt Alex's hands on his knees, the man kneeling before him.

"_There was nothing more you could have done Soren. We are heading north on fourteenth, we'll start scoping the area and see if we find the car as we go. What did it look like again?"_

"Black, it was an older Chevy; I didn't catch the licence plate."

"_Well, it's only been a few minutes, they haven't gotten far. We'll find them, don't worry. I'll call you as soon as we know anything." _

"Thanks," Soren whispered before the line went dead, closing the phone he rested his head against the steering wheel.

"They close?" Eric asked, seeing Soren nod he continued. "They'll find him."

Holding back tears Soren nodded again. He hoped so.

* * *

His breathing was still strained. The broken ribs were making it difficult for his chest to expand and contract adequately enough for him to get enough oxygen. He knew that his consciousness had drifted a few times during the short drive. The car had come to a stop in an immense parking lot. Peering at the buildings across Yami furrowed his brow, Gasoline Alley Museum. It was part of Heritage Park, somewhat of a sub section from it, right down by the Glenmore reservoir. Swallowing hard he froze when Alphonse left the car and came around, his eyes focused on the large reservoir nearby, the frozen water reflecting some of the moonlight. Perfect place to hide something, at least until the layer of ice melted in the spring.

The car door opened, his seatbelt was unclipped from whatever restraints were keeping it tight then removed. Alphonse grabbed his arm, yanking him none too kindly out of the car, slamming the door as he went. Remaining submissive Yami allowed Alphonse to lead him towards a nearby road heading towards a construction zone. He could see a large building looming nearby, dark grey brick. He was unable to read the sign on the front, it was too dark and too far away, but he could read the notice on the doors.

_Warning: Building is to be demolished, do not enter. _

There was no damn way in hell he was going anywhere near there, or the reservoir.

The same trick was not going to work twice; he could at least give Alphonse the credit of being perceptive and having a keen memory. Thankfully he had several tricks up his sleeve, none of them remotely similar.

Planting his right leg he kicked back with the other, the bottom of his foot ramming into Alphonse's shin, knocking the man backwards and away, severing the hold he had on his arm. Relaxing through the small wave of pain that caused he sank into the ready position, only one of his arms up and ready, hoping that Alphonse fell for his bait.

The killer growled angrily, launching towards Yami. Batting Yami's one arm away with ease he came in low, his fist rising up into Yami's gut, a perfect hit. His face fell as both Yami's hands tightly gripped his, putting pressure and lessening the blow to his stomach, along with arching his body away to cradle the hit.

Yami grinned at him, "Predictable," he grunted before swivelling, yanking Alphonse over his shoulder with surprising strength. He followed with the throw, using the velocity that he had thrown Alphonse with to be his force. As the killer hit the ground he followed on top, shoulder digging into Alphonse's sternum, further winding and briefly disabling the man. Continuing to roll Yami manoeuvred up to a knee, rising to his feet with some difficulty as his side seized again. Wincing he placed a hand over the wound again staring down at Alphonse as the man slowly caught his breath. He needed to run, now was his only chance before Alphonse got up. Turning he ignored the burning in his side and bolted, sprinting towards the museum.

* * *

Bakura frantically peered around him looking for any signs of a black Chevy, for anything that would give them some sort of hint as to where that prick was taking Yami. Grey was just as fervent, looking at every single car and person that they passed. Stopping at the intersection that met with Heritage Drive Bakura waited for the light to turn green, gaze scanning down the street in the direction of the bar. It was a long street, one that was currently covered in snow; it would be dangerous to drive fast. Even Alphonse would not risk killing himself and his prize in an accident because of sheer stupidity. The man would have been a cautious driver, they had probably just recently been through this intersection. Scowling he looked across the intersection, heart nearly leaping when he spotted an unmarked police car flashing its hazard lights where it had pulled another car over.

When the light turned green he drove through, flicking on his signal light he pulled out in front of the police car as the one he had pulled over drove away. Grey thankfully seemed to know what he was doing and rolled down the window as the officer approached their vehicle from the passenger side.

"Can I help you?" The young male officer asked.

Holding up his badge Bakura questioned swiftly, "Have you seen a black Chevy car come through this intersection recently? It's an older model."

Contemplating for a moment the officer nodded pointing towards the reservoir, "Yeah, bout five or six minutes ago one went through the intersection continuing on Heritage. Looked like they were either heading for the boat docks down there or the museum, though both are currently closed. I thought nothing of it."

Shaking with hope Bakura pulled out a recent picture that Soren had taken of Yami flashing it to the officer, "Did you see this young man in the vehicle?"

Reaching out the officer took the picture, staring at it a moment he nodded, "Yeah, kid has a pretty distinctive appearance; he was in the passenger seat. Some guy was in the drivers, probably a dad or something, looked like he was in his fifties."

Both detectives flinched at that comment, "Well, he's definitely not his dad. Thank you for your help," Grey said moving to roll up the window.

"Certainly, have a good one, and good luck finding them."

Bakura did not give Grey the chance to finish pulling up the window, flicking on his signal light he sped out into traffic turning abruptly towards the museum. Grey was desperately grabbing the seat, remaining calm through his partners reckless driving as Bakura sped down towards the museum, high beams on and dark eyes searching the area around, barely looking at the road.

* * *

The snow was not helping him, not only was it making it hard to keep his footing, but it was also showing Alphonse exactly where he was running through the rapidly intensifying blizzard. The prick was hot on his tail, the hard sound of his feet hitting the ground barely audible over Yami's intense wheezing. His asthma had yet to really calm, and the cold air was decreasing his ability to breathe even more. He was praying that someone was stupid and left one of the doors to the buildings open, but thus far he had had no luck. Moving on to the next building Yami barrelled to the front door, knees nearly caving when he reached it, body beginning to shut down from lack of oxygen and the cold. In his desperation he did not notice the headlights of another car coming down the road towards the museum, all he noticed was the door miraculously clicking open.

Yanking it open he stumbled inside. Eyes adjusting to the stark darkness within he kicked off his shoes, not only were they soaked and would create a trail but they could easily be heard if he walked. The place was filled with old cars and gas pumps, perfect hiding place. Dashing across as far as he could he slid behind one of the cars when the door opened, Alphonse entering behind him. His breathing was frantic; it's all he could hear. He had no choice, holding his breath he knelt down on his knees, watching Alphonse step slowly towards the center walkway.

Heart pounding in his ears he forced his body to remain still, eyes focused on Alphonse through the darkness, the only light filtered in through the glass front doors. Alphonse was confident, almost cocky as he strode down the center aisle, glancing at each of the cars and displays, his grin noticeable. Yami was cornered, he knew it, but he had a better chance in here than he did outside. His asthma reacted badly to cold weather, and coupled with his injuries he would have collapsed soon if he had kept running. At least in here he could set off an alarm or possibly stall until his breathing calmed enough that he could chance going back outside. His heart skipped a beat when Alphonse suddenly spoke, voice breaking through the silence like a knife through flesh, "You can only hold your breath for so long Yami, when you breathe I will find you."

Cringing Yami shifted his feet sinking lower into his knees, thankful that the car he was hiding behind was in complete darkness, he would not be seen here. But heard, completely possible. He was already struggling to hold his breath, lungs straining to expel the stale air. His hands were shaking, along with the rest of his body. If he continued for much longer without taking even a small breath he would let go and start breathing hard, or worse, pass out.

Alphonse continued to drift down the middle, green eyes flashing in the darkness, grinning he knew he was close, and if he was not then his prey would soon lose control of his breathing. "If you don't breathe, you will pass out...when your body hits the floor, I'll find you and this will all have been for nothing. Nothing but prolonging your death."

Yami tensed, he couldn't hold his breath any long, and his vision was beginning to spin. He had no choice; he would just have to hope that he had enough left in him to run to the residential area nearby. Rising in his knees he prepared to bolt, the breath leaving his lungs and filling with new air, the sound a loud wheeze.

Spinning at the sound Alphonse grinned and made to advance on the area that he heard his prey, steps fast and confident.

Suddenly the front doors burst open, Bakura barrelling in with gun drawn and pointed in front of him, dark russet eyes staring straight at the dark figure at the far end of the building standing frozen. Snarling he directed the gun at the man, barely thinking as he strode towards him, "Get the fuck away from him!"

The words spurred Alphonse out of his shock. Anger boiled within him, along with reason. He had clearly lost his prey again, the detectives spoiling his fun yet again. Snarling he bolted to another part of the building, careening for the back door.

Moving to follow his Bakura bolted down the center, skidding to a halt when loud wheezing reached his ears. Bloodlust gone he scrambled to the back of the cars, following the noise he felt his heart skip a beat in relief when he found Yami hunched over behind one of the cars, using its bumper to hold himself up right. Shoving his gun in his pocket he knelt down beside his comrade, hand reach out to comfort. He was not expecting Yami to whip around and grip his wrists, blocking him from touching him. Peering into panicked eyes through the dark Bakura murmured, "It's me, Bakura; I'm not going to hurt you Yami, calm down."

Yami's resolve instantly crumbled, breathing becoming laboured he held back the tears that were threatening to well in his eyes. He had given up; limbs had refused to move when he had taken that breath, all he knew was the fear and sounds of Alphonse's feet. Shaking he let go of Bakura's wrists, hands fisting in his shirt as he hunched over, chest burning as he tried to breathe. He could feel Bakura arms wrapping around him, pulling him against his chest, one of his own hands reaching out and almost clung to the detective. He felt safe, even through the haze of the asthma attack that was now in full swing. He didn't even care; all he knew was that bastard was not going to kill him tonight.

Sprinting into the museum Grey pulled out his flashlight. Hearing the desperate wheezing he dashed towards the sound, the light of the flashlight ghosting over Yami and Bakura. "Where's his puffer?" He demanded, moving to kneel down beside his partner.

"At home I'm guessing," said Bakura, watching Grey reach out and rub Yami's back. "Did you see him go through the back door?"

Grey shook his head, "No, it's snowing too damn much for me to see anything back there. Yami, take it easy, slowly your breathing."

"He got away," Bakura whispered, arms instinctively tightening around Yami. Seeing Grey's reluctant nod he bit his lip, cursing quietly. Shaking his head he focused on Yami's irregular breathing, it wasn't calming, only worsening. "Grey?"

"Already on it," said the detective dialling the emergency number on his cell phone. "We can't control his breathing for him, and he needs his ventolin or oxygen. Soren also said that Alphonse hit him in the side, with all the wounds he still has healing I'd rather not take the risk."

Nervously Bakura watched Grey move towards the front door while talking to a dispatcher. The Foothills hospital was less than ten minutes away. Getting comfortable he continued to rub Yami's heaving back, cringing at the sounds the young man was making as he desperately tried to breathe. Closing his eyes he sat and waited.

**A/N:** _Brain Haemorrhage = 1 oz peach schnapps, half oz Irish cream, few drops of grenadine_

_Atomic Jager Bomb = Jagermeister, rockstar with vodka_

_Anthrax = 1/3 oz captain morgan, 1/3 oz Bacardi white run, and 1/3 oz Crown Royal_

_Apple Fucker = ½ oz apple sour puss and ½ oz vodka_

_For those that want to know what is in those shots that Eric was forced to have, those are them. And thanks again to everyone for reviewing, I hope this chapter was worth the wait, and sorry for it being short. R&R please :D_


	11. Chapter 11

SILHOUETTE

_**A/N:**__ Thanks to yami yasi, Blue September, Junki, EgyptianSoul.88, Blackened Gem, kiki2222, Elebriwien, Yamifan._

_Sorry that this took so long, got busy with work and other things. Been also training in a new building, my boss has taken over partial control of the new indoor soccer dome in the city I live in, so me and one of the other girls are going back and forth between the soccer dome and the arenas, it's been eventful and busy to say the least. Been starting to coach outdoor soccer too and a new job while finishing my other one…..along with having one hell of an evil writers block. Funny thing about the block, well…maybe not so funny, was I was almost done the chapter when it hit me ^^; _

_I hope this chapter was worth the wait. And, I will warn all of you, my new job is full time, so my updates won't be as fast as they were before, unless I go on a spurt again. _

_**A bit of a hijack here from her boyfriend. She has worked really hard on this chapter…when she has had the time. Writers block seems to be a big evil that she has problems getting past, but I know that there are a lot of loyal readers out there, so I, and all of you, should keep encouraging her to keep pumping out the chapters. She says that the chapters wont be as frequent cause of the job thing, I disagree, I think it will help her creative process flow better…I have already noticed a difference. So, as I really want her to finish this, and I am sure all of you do too, lets keep encouraging her, in a positive way, to finish this!**_

_I don't own Yugioh_

**CHAPTER ELEVEN**

The house was silent save for the cracking of the fire and the strained breathing of one of the occupants. Sitting on one of the far corners of the couch Bakura absently watched the television, volume off, barely absorbing what was playing. His attention was focused completely on Yami, whom was sleeping on the other part of the sectional. His breathing was better, but not fixed, torso rising in stiff movements. A few of his ribs had been re-broken, thankfully though they had caused no damage to his lungs. His asthma was controlled now, they had only been kept in the hospital for three hours this time, the doctors doing quick x-rays and calming his breathing with oxygen and steroids. Yami didn't speak a word the entire time they were there; whether from shock or the inability to breathe properly he did not know. Soren's hip was badly bruised, but there was far too much swelling and a mass of broken blood vessels that the doctors could not say for certain whether or not it was fractured. He had stayed with Yami for a while till Grey insisted on driving them home, Alex and Eric included.

Yami had remained silent when they got home, muttering a small thank you before he fell asleep on the couch. Soren had warned him that Yami would probably be anti-social and unable to say much for the next day or two because of the asthma attack, but it still unnerved him with how distant the young EMT was being. Yes, Yami was a very quiet person, but even he normally was not this absent.

His heart had been racing in his chest for most of that night, something he had yet to calm or find a reasonable explanation for. From the moment he found the note till he had Yami in his arms he was filled with this unexplainable surge of panic, his body pumping with adrenaline and livid fury at the man that had touched the young man. Absently placing his hand over his now calmly pulsating heart he scowled, he had never felt like that before in his life and at the moment he could not explain why he was suddenly so affected. All the other times that he had been put into a panic to protect Yami he had not felt it that strongly. He felt as if his chest was ripping apart from the sheer pressure of fear and worry, fear of losing him.

Cursing he stood up from the couch, strutting into the kitchen he went about making some coffee, intent on waking Yami up and getting him to have some. He needed to hear him talk, at least tell him how he was feeling, even if the answer he would get was a lie.

Turning on the coffee machine he placed two cups on the island counter, eyes glancing to the clock. It was almost six in the morning, being that it was his day off he had no reason to be awake at this hour, but sleep had not exactly been his friend for the past few days. Yami's listlessness was bothering him, worrying him to be more precise. The EMT had been fairly lifeless for the past few days since they had the run in with Alphonse. He barely spoke, if he did at all, spending most of his time lying in front of the TV mindlessly watching it, staring outside or sleeping. This absence was draining all of Bakura's energy and his minimal patience.

Pouring the coffee into the two cups he added the amount of sugar and milk Yami took with his before striding back into the living room carefully carrying the two cups. Placing them on the coffee table he knelt down beside Yami, hand reaching out and gently shaking him. Wine coloured eyes opened and peered blearily up at him, the owner yawning stiffly. Signalling towards the cups of coffee Bakura moved to help Yami sit up, gripping the young man's elbows gently and guiding him upright, pleased that Yami had at least a little strength back. Handing him the coffee Bakura sat down beside him, taking his own cup he sipped at it, "How'd you sleep? No nightmares?"

Yami stiffly shook his head, cradling the cup of coffee he quietly drank it, eyes staring at the floor. It was a lie. He had stopped screaming a few weeks back, he generally now only jolted awake, staring at the ceiling covered in his own sweat. It was a blessing, at least that way he could get away with the lie that they had stopped. They had lessened too, instead of every night they were once or twice a week.

Scowling Bakura glared at him, it was a bold faced lie and he knew it. He had heard Yami get up and go into the bathroom, splashing water on his face probably to snap him out of the grips of the images. Having gotten up himself he had watched from his bedroom door for the hour that it took for Yami to calm enough to lay down on the couch and pass out not even bothering to stumble back to his room. "Try again."

Stiffening Yami gripped his cup tighter, eyes closing he simply drank back his coffee, avoiding answering.

"I saw you get up last night, then pass out on the couch. If something had not woken you up and freaked you, you would not have done that," Bakura said matter of factly, russet eyes watching Yami, trying to see if it would get him a reaction. Scowling he chugged back the rest of his coffee; slamming it down on the table he returned his attention to the young EMT. "Yami I just need to know that you're alright, you have barely spoken more than two words for the past couple of days."

Yami absently shrugged, taking another long sip of his coffee, eyes remaining closed.

Suppressing a growl Bakura pursed his lips tightly and slouched back dramatically, roughly running his digits through his hair he closed his eyes, "Dammit! You son of a bitch, at least say something!"

Opening his eyes Yami peered at Bakura through his peripheral vision, "I'm fine."

He was wrong. Hearing a lie was not satisfactory, he needed to hear the truth, and get more than a half coherent answer. Sitting back up he glared at Yami, eyes darkening in frustration, "That's a fucking lie and you know it," his voice low and dangerous. Gaining another nonchalant shrug he growled, reaching out he grabbed a fist full of Yami's sleeve. "What's the problem, afraid someone might think that you are weak by admitting what you're feeling?"

Snapping towards him Yami tightly gripped Bakura's wrist, warningly squeezing it, "Let go."

Snarling Bakura ignored the meek warning, tightening his hold he stood up pulling Yami with him, faces inches apart he spat out, "Not until you stop fucking around the bush. Obviously your mouth is working again so talk!"

"I said I'm fine, get that through your thick head and drop it," Yami retorted, body and voice still eerily calm.

"I'd be happy to, when it's not a lie," the detective ground out through clenched teeth. "Your father is dead; you have a homicidal psychopath after your ass. You have been beaten, bloodied and bruised over and over by that prick. Spent more time in the hospital in the last month than anyone I have ever known, and to top it off, you just had a fucking asthma attack after the bastard tried to kidnap you, and you want to tell me you are fine? Don't fuck around with me, Yami!"

Quelling the anger rising up within him Yami shifted his grip on Bakura's hand, hitting a pressure point dead on, forcing the detective to relinquish his hold on him, flinching at the momentary déjà vu. "Don't try and tell me how I should feel. I'm fine, end of discussion," with that he turned striding towards his room. He did not want to deal with this, not while his head was still whirling from the other night.

"What are you so afraid of! Strutting around with your pride on high won't hide anything from me. Are you afraid of letting people see what's bothering you? Confiding in others for strength and comfort? Well too fucking late, you started to let me in and I will be damned if you shove me away now!" Seeing that Yami didn't even react he yelled out. "Don't you dare run away!"

Stopping Yami spun around, eyes dark from the livid fury that he was trying to suppress, "Fuck off."

"Right, I forgot, if you don't let anyone in, 'no one will get hurt.'" Bakura scoffed, "Not all of us are afraid of a little pain, you fucking coward."

He froze, chest tightening as he realized in the split moment that had transpired between when he said the final word and now Yami was in his face. _Maybe this was a bad idea_, he thought to himself as burning crimson orbs bore into him, a rough hand grabbing his throat and slamming him into the nearby wall. He had no time to react, Yami shifted so his forearm was across his collarbone putting pressure on the fragile bones and his throat, one knee placed between his knees to firmly keep him in place. Breath hitching he stared on in shock, a tinge of fear running through his veins.

"Fuck you! You have no idea what this feels like! Yes I am terrified! I will be damned if I lose what is left of my sanity and the valuable people in my life to that bastard! And at the moment, if that means running away I will!" Yami roared, his fury quelling any pain this was probably causing and all rational thought as to how much damage he was causing Bakura. "Are you happy now? Happy to hear that I'm afraid, that my mind is falling apart, and that my body is fucking useless to defend the people I care about. Are you fucking happy Bakura?"

The detective could not resist the small relieved smile that crossed his lips, Yami's scowl increasing before he spoke, "Better."

Stunned Yami stared hard up at Bakura, mind spinning he stuttered, the anger dissipating from him, "Wh..what?"

Reaching up Bakura placed both hands on the arm pinning him, gently pushing it away, happy when Yami stepped back from him. Staring at the bewildered expression Yami was giving him he smiled more, "That's what I wanted you to say all along, moron."

Blinking Yami peered at Bakura, his confusion evident along with the fact that his mind was racing. "You…wanted me to do that? Why?"

"You've been devoid of all that I admire about you and of any emotion for the past few days. I couldn't stand you being a damned dreary shell of a person. All I wanted to know was what was bothering you, at least having it vocalized, have you react," Bakura admitted, moving back to sit on the couch and drink his coffee. "I'm guessing that what Alphonse did the other night has you completely freaked, the nightmares and your listlessness was my main clue."

Remaining where he was Yami dropped his gaze, "It's not what he did really, it's what I did." Turning on the couch Bakura stared at him questionly, not pressing for an answer, simply waiting quietly for Yami to let it out. "When he came into the museum, I held my breath to try and keep hidden, have him wander far enough into the building looking for me that I could bolt. But, I couldn't hold it, and when I took a breath he heard me. Just the sound of him coming towards me seemed to sap all the energy from me, I couldn't move, couldn't get up. I was completely frozen."

Sighing Bakura stood up, grabbing Yami's discarded coffee and bringing it over to the young man pressed it into his hands, letting it go when Yami numbly grabbed it. "Look Yami, everyone is afraid of something. You are allowed to be afraid, allowed to be so scared that you can't move. It shows that you are human. Besides, your asthma being as out of control as it was probably rendered you pretty immobile."

Lifting his gaze Yami murmured, "I just…even still…I hate this, hate not being able to do a damn thing, being powerless against that prick. I hate it! I'm not like this!"

Placing his hand on Yami's trembling shoulder Bakura said gently, "You got attacked Yami. You stood almost no chance against those men, especially since you were dead set on defending Garret. They beat you, they shot you, and they left you to die in that fire. Honestly, the fact that you are alive still baffles me, but what baffles me even more is how fast you are recovering. Yami, you have injuries to heal from, that's not you suddenly losing all your strength to fear but to injury from protecting Garret. Alphonse did this on purpose, and I can guarantee it's because he knows that he won't be able to handle you when you are at your best. You'll heal, you're doing a damn good job already, and when you do we will catch this prick and finish him off. If you need to beat him with your own hands I will let you do it, if it gives you some peace. But, until then, you are healing not a pathetic weakling, understood?"

Giving a small nod Yami moved to sit back down on the couch, Bakura already almost there, when his side seized. Gasping he snapped one of his hands out to stabilize him, wincing he swayed a bit finally exhaling when Bakura dashed to him, hands on his shoulders to stabilize him. "I think I over did it."

"That was my fault. Here, gimme your cup, I'll help you to the couch," taking the extended cup he gently pulled Yami's arm across his shoulders and wrapped one of his around Yami's back. Slowly he guided Yami to the couch and gently into a sitting position on the plush sectional, giving him back his coffee Bakura sighed with relief and moved to sit down.

The shrill ring of the phone forced a startled cry out Bakura's mouth and a second as he missed the couch in his stunned state. Yami resisted the urge to laugh, opting to watch his friend scramble for the phone, absently rubbing at his rather sore buttocks as he answered.

"What?"

"_I know I taught you better manners than that, Bakura."_

Further stunned at the voice Bakura stuttered, "Uncle Mike?"

"_Yes, you dolt. The house better be clean this time when I get back, I don't want to have to clean that place after a six hour drive. I'd rather drink in front of my fireplace tonight if you don't mind."_

Bakura shook his head in amusement, reading the sarcastic playful tone his uncle was giving. "Bloody red neck, I have weeks before you get home for Christmas."

"_Well, you see, dear nephew, I will be home in three hours, I'm just passing through Leduc."_

Swallowing hard Bakura nearly collapsed on the couch in shock, resisting cursing he stammered, "Um, you're coming home almost three weeks early."

"_Yep, now have that house clean please. See you in a few hours." _

"I…uh….Mike!" Bakura stuttered, jaw dropping when the line went dead. Staring at the phone, Bakura chucked it on the couch and made his vocal cords work. "Damn fucking red neck!"

Eye brows rising in amusement Yami said teasingly, "Now, if that wasn't a guy's name I would ask if that was an ex-girlfriend calling to tell you she's pregnant."

"Har har, I didn't know you had such a joyful sense of humour," Bakura grumbled, stumbling into the kitchen, wrenching the dishwasher open and avidly –yet without any grace- putting the dishes away. "My uncle's going to be home in three hours. I haven't called him yet to tell him that I finally found a roommate, and well, we both haven't exactly been cleaning this place for the past few days and he wants it clean."

Nearly dropping his coffee Yami stared in stunned silence at Bakura as the man finished unloading the dishwasher than began to reload it. Coughing he shook his head, chugging back his coffee, _well…this should be fun…time to clean and meet the family._

Hair still dripping from the quick shower that he had Yami quietly sat still on the bed while Bakura slowly wrapped his chest and stomach in several tensor bandages. His eyes watched Bakura's own glance over the mostly healed incisions, they were all angry red scars now; along with fixating on the old one on his right side. Biting his lip he turned his gaze to the mirror across from him, staring at the white scar now pronounced by the fading bruises around it. He sighed as the memory filtered through his mind. All he remembered was lying on the ground, Soren's hands pressing into the bleeding wound and his friends voice screaming, echoing, to anyone that could help, to his parents. He was vaguely conscious when his mother came barrelling into the alley, Tawni forcing Soren to call an ambulance while she took over putting pressure on his stomach, her voice desperately trying to keep him awake. He remembered that she was still in her uniform, having just gotten off a sixteen hour shift. Everything had went black the moment the sound of sirens had entered his ears.

"You alright?"

Jolting Yami directed his attention back on Bakura, giving the detective a briefly puzzled gaze before composing himself and nodding, "Yes, sorry, zoned out."

"Soren told me," Bakura said quietly, wrapping the bandage around the scar that had been the focus of Yami's attention. "Still bothers you sometimes, don't it."

Nodding again Yami reached down and held the end of the bandage in place while Bakura reached down to grab the metal tabs from the floor, "Sometimes. It bothered my parents more when they saw it than it ever really has me. Dad always said it was his daily reminder of his failure, one that he would never repeat. Mom usually just went quiet then carried on with what she was doing."

Clipping on the pins Bakura rose to his feet, stretching stiffly then throwing Yami his shirt from on top of the dresser, "Soren said you were in pretty bad shape. Sounded like your hospital stay for that was longer than all the time for your current injuries combined."

"It got infected after the first few days. Apparently the knife was covered in dirt, rust and some chemical," Yami expounded, stiffly pulling his shirt on while standing up. "They told me that it caused my kidney to start shutting down. I honestly don't remember much of those two weeks, had a fever for most of it, and was pretty delusional for the few times that I was awake."

"Do you remember what happened?"

"Somewhat, comes back in bits and pieces. Mostly only remember from the time I got stabbed to when the ambulance arrived. Everything before and after is pretty blank," he said walking out of the room and towards the kitchen to check on the food he had put in the oven for lunch. Briefly popping the oven open he determined that the food could survive staying in until Mike arrived, grinning when he heard Bakura's stomach grumble at the smell of the food. "Soren honestly was more traumatized than I was. Because I have issues remembering it, and the sheer fact that I didn't have any recollection of it for the first six months, he had to deal with the police and the men that did it more than I did. I mean, yes, I went to the court hearing later that year to have them locked up, but at the time seeing them didn't bother me, I had yet to remember their faces. I know he still feels guilty about it, took a year for me to get him to lay off and stop carrying a weapon around with us."

Sitting on one of the bar stools around the island counter Bakura relaxed back, hand reaching down to absently pet Reno's insistent head, "Did it ever really bother you?"

"After the court hearing," Yami murmured, leaning against the counter. "The hearing made it real, made it all sink in, and I had faces to remember."

The sensation of a thick wet tongue suddenly licking his hand caused Bakura to cry out and stare down at the dog, growling out he barely noticed Yami's amused smirk, "You know Reno, my hands have better things to do than pet you and be molested by your disgusting tongue."

Stifling laughter Yami shook his head, heart leaping into his throat when a voice said from beside him, Reno barking avidly and dashing towards the intruder. "Bakura, I don't think the rest of the world needs to know what you would rather your hands be doing at the moment, so please don't continue on that train of thought."

Whipping around Yami found himself staring at an older short haired cowboy version of Bakura, the man was grinning mischievously as he leaned casually against the counter barely acknowledging Reno's ruthless inspection. Swallowing hard Yami tried to put his heart back in its right place, staring nervously at the man he caught Bakura's scowl out of the corner of his eye. This was obviously Mike, the family resemblance was obvious. His white hair was in a crisp buzz cut under the black cowboy hat he was wearing, his face was young for a man the age that he was, and his blue eyes were bright and cheerful. He was a little broader in the shoulders than Bakura, his white tee-shirt tight, and he was a good three or more inches taller than his nephew.

"You're an ass," Bakura grumbled, inattentively watching Yami snap his fingers and direct Reno to his side the dog reluctantly plopping his bottom where commanded. "You really need to learn not to sneak up on people, especially people that you haven't met."

Chuckling Mike pushed himself away from the counter, extending a hand out to Yami, "I'm Mikael Bakura, the brat's uncle as you have probably already guess. And you are?"

Taking a calming breath Yami stiffly shook the extended hand, trying not to flinch as the man's hand practically engulfed his own, "Yami Horakhty."

Mike's face suddenly lost its brightness, not letting go of Yami's hand he questioned, recognition flickering in his eyes, "Garret's boy?"

Feeling uncomfortable Yami glanced briefly in unease at Bakura before nodding, pulling his hand away, "Yes."

Averting to Bakura Mike quirked a brow, "I didn't know that the two of you were friends. Garret always teased me that he didn't want you to badly influence his boy. The man is probably chuckling about this wherever he is watching from."

"Yami's the new roommate that I have yet to be able to tell you about," Bakura said flatly, coming around the counter to stand beside Yami.

Nodding slowly in understanding Mike glanced back at Yami, whom was concentrating on his feet, "I kind of guessed that he was here, always heard Grey talking to him in the background when you were on the phone with me. Bout time you did an act of human kindness."

"I finally got one up on you," Bakura retorted, grinning devilishly as his uncle's mock offended look.

Waving his hand dismissively at Bakura Mike brushed past the two to kneel down in front of the oven dramatically sniffing, "You just have no appreciation for the wonderful things I do for humanity. This smells good, by the way, is it out of a box?"

Stiffening Bakura snarled, "No, you ass, Yami made it from scratch."

"Ah, good, you're no longer cooking," Mike said with a grin, standing up he patted Yami on the shoulder, pleased to see the young man smiling in amusement. "You are officially my hero, I was getting bored of his box cooking, and I'm a simpleton in the kitchen. Take out was not friends with my delicate waist."

Trying not to laugh Yami watched Bakura punch Mike in the shoulder, the hit was lacking all intensity and barely nudged the giant, "Delicate waist my ass, you have enough weights and shit downstairs to train a body builder, all you are missing is the steroids," the detective grunted.

"Have to keep the ladies happy somehow," Mike grinned, skirting out of the kitchen and plopping down in one of the chairs at the table. "Steroids would do bad things, so they get what they won't get out of most gym junkies in me, a real package that hasn't shrunk and guns of steel."

Quirking a brow Yami stared at Bakura, the detective fervently shaking his head while he pulled out plates, utensils and glasses from the cupboards, "I see where you get your ego from."

"If you think he's bad now, wait till he's liquored, then we shall see who is the bigger egoist," Bakura shot back, carrying the dishes to the table and quietly set it.

Smiling Yami pulled the food out of the oven, shutting it off before carrying the dish to the table, "Should we test that theory?"

Shaking his head Bakura murmured, "Not if you value your sanity."

Dinner was eaten for the first time in a while with conversation flowing through the entire thing. Mike gave them the lively factor that had been missing from Yami and Bakura's quiet but pleasant conversations. The two of them generally did not eat at the table to begin with for any meal but supper, or anytime there were friends over. Bakura was quietly thankful; Mike had pulled Yami out of his nervousness along with completely shedding the still melancholy mood he had earlier. It was nice, calming.

Clearing away the dishes in a collaborative effort and shoving it all into the dishwasher Bakura and Mike went and sat down on the couch while Yami made two cups of spiked hot chocolate and one of plain tea. Placing the three steaming cups on a tray he brought then out to the living room, putting it on the coffee table he took his own cup and sat down while Bakura moved to shuffle the wood in the fireplace. The house had cooled off significantly, at least for him, so he cradled his cup of tea and wrapped a blanket around his shoulders. Mike had opted to grab a thick wool sweater while Bakura had simply shoved on a pair of thick socks.

"So how did the two of you meet?" Mike questioned.

Glancing at each other Yami and Bakura seemed to quietly deem it alright, "At a crime scene," Bakura expounded, coming to sit down beside Yami, chugging back some of his drink. "He beat me there, in a manner of speaking, and gave the victim at least another day to live."

Furrowing his brow in curiosity Mike peered at Yami, whom was avoiding his gaze, "Do tell."

Swallowing hard in nervousness Yami adjusted his grip on his cup, "I'm an EMT, as you probably know seeing as you were acquainted with my father. My partner and I could hear the victim's screams from where we had parked the rig to take a quick break. We went in, on my order, we did not wait for police clearance or back up."

Grinning a bit Mike said, "You've got guts. What happened when you went in?"

"He interrupted the would be killer, and Soren went to attend to the victim," Bakura answered simply.

"I.E you went in, fought the bastard and won seemingly, nicely done," Mike added knowingly, grinning more when Yami blushed a bit, the EMT trying to cover it by taking a healthy gulp of his tea. "I like him."

"Glad to hear it," Yami and Bakura said simultaneously, both staring at each other in slight shock at their unison, shrugging it off quietly.

"I am, also guessing, that the two of you did not exactly get off on the right foot," Mike continued, grin widening at the duo response of embarrassment. "Let me guess, knowing you my lovely nephew, you tried to chew his head off and failed."

"Miserably," Bakura grumbled, reaching up absently and rubbing his very much healed nose. "He punched me in the nose, small fracture."

"Very nice," Mike chuckled, fervour increasing when Yami – to hide his guilty expression – gulped back the rest of his tea and meandered into the kitchen. "So, you two, how did you end up becoming friends after that little skirmish."

"Apologized the next day, both of us, when I went to get a statement," Bakura muttered, nervously scratching the back of his neck, flinching when Yami continued.

"Him and Grey, got me out of the fire," the young EMT whispered, placing his cup in the dishwasher. "The two of them never really left my side until Bakura brought me here to stay, even still he's never really left."

"I figured it was something more complex," Mike said quietly, eyes locking on his nephew as the young detective stared back at Yami, a small smile crossing his features. "I'm guessing there's a rather large blank between the fire and now, a blank that is not void of a lot of things happening. Care to share?"

"Yami?" Bakura questioned, trailing the man as he came back to sit beside him on the couch. Seeing the indifferent shrug Bakura looked back at Mike. "Plan on being up for a few hours?"

"Mhm."

"Good, because the gap is going to take a lengthy amount of explaining."

Christmas had gone by in a blur. December up until this point had gone by so fast that his head was spinning at the thought of it. It was hitting him even harder as he watched some of his coworkers removing the Christmas decorations around their massive unit office and replacing it with Happy New Years banners already getting ready for tonights staff party. Sighing he scowled a bit in displeasure at the bright banners and turned back to his computer screen and the massive amount of case work in front of him. He hated this season, too damn many suicides and murders, made it hard to take pleasure in the joyful parts.

In front of him was the pile of papers he had accumulated from the coroner, the toxicology reports were all now in their possession for every victim. They were a dismal sight for him. None of them contained anything useful, aside from the fact that the last four were given adrenaline, along with the four thugs, whom unfortunately were already loaded with cocaine. The first victim had been somewhat sloppily done, there was more damage done to her lungs than the next five, and her ribs were not evenly cut. He had become better and better with each kill, his precision increasing along with his confidence. The victims were well restrained, preventing any movement, so all the cuts were in perfect lines. The binding materials were dead ends in terms of DNA. Alphonse had left no trace of himself, and had cunningly used ropes and clothes from the house instead of his own things. The set of handcuffs used on the one victim were void of DNA as well, and were currently hard to trace their original origins to. The symbols on the first five victims were the caduceus, the reason they had named him thus, while victim number six had both the caduceus and the paramedic symbol etched on him, and the remaining victims had been mauled beyond the ability to be carved on but the symbol had been painted on the walls in their blood.

Sighing Bakura scrubbed his hands over his face, exhaling dramatically he peaked through his fingers towards the clock, _one hour left thank God,_ he thought with relief. Reclining his chair he absently watched his co-workers put up the remaining banners, giggling and joking as they went. Tapping his hand on the desk he swivelled his chair around to peer at the set of stairs leading up into the office. Grey had run off to fetch a snack and coffee and was due back any moment now. Hearing footsteps he grinned, grabbing a nearby piece of paper he squished it into a ball. The moment he saw the top of Grey's head he chucked it, hitting his partner square between the eyes, causing the detective to stumble and nearly drip the tray of coffee in his hands.

"You're such an ass," Grey grumbled, striding over to Bakura, placing the tray and bag of Danishes carefully onto the desk. He grinned in amusement as Bakura laid claim on his coffee and one of the Danishes. Plopping down in his chair he stared at the case files on his desk. Two of them were the open and shut cases that they had worked on throughout December, both had the perpetrators confession and enough evidence to fully incriminate them. The next was the over flow from the Caduceus case. "I'm guessing that you went through the files again?"

"Yeah," Bakura grumbled through inhaling his snack.

"Do any good?"

Shaking his head then tilting it back as he chugged back his coffee Bakura grumbled, "No, same shit different order."

"Should we just head home then?"

Glancing up at the clock again Bakura reluctantly nodded, there wasn't much they were going to be able to accomplish in the remaining three quarters of an hour that remained of their shift. Sighing he stood up, grabbing two of the boxes filled with evidence from the Caduceus case, "Let's take the evidence down to lock up then go."

"Will Yami be home yet from physio?" Grey questioned pointedly as they made their way down the stairs.

"What makes you think I'd know, I don't keep tabs on him," Bakura said defensively.

Grey quirked a brow, "He's home then huh."

Glaring back over his shoulder Bakura grunted, "Yeah, probably."

"So how many cameras do you have watching him," Grey pressed, grinning when Bakura stiffened before forcibly shrugging the comment off.

"None."

"I find that hard to believe considering you always know where he is."

Pushing through a set of doors leading into the large evidence warehouse, Bakura retorted back, "We text alright, he lets me know where he is and vice versa, it's a good communication system between friends and roommates, that's all."

"Uh huh, right," Grey teased, watching Bakura weave down one of the isles, the man monitoring the room from the door watching their every move with little interest. "You're practically stalking him, or acting like an overbearing mother...or something else."

"Shut up will you," Bakura snapped, shoving the box on one of the shelves, rounding on Grey he ground out. "What are you trying to get at here; you haven't left me alone about this topic for the last month."

"Oh nothing, just observing your incredibly easy to read behaviour," he grinned, placing his own box on the shelf before wrapping an arm around Bakura's shoulders and guiding him out of the building.

Narrowing his eyes in suspicion Bakura peered at his friend, "I have no idea what you are talking about."

Grey chuckled, "Right, that I doubt, you know exactly what I am talking about, you're just in denial or fearing what you think will happen, but it won't."

"Don't push your luck."

Over Reno's insistent barking Bakura could hear the sound of fists pounding into his punching bag in the basement. Pulling off his shoes and jacket he quietly closed the door. Absently petting Reno he headed for the stairs into the basement. He knew it wasn't Mike, the red neck never went near his punching bag, it wasn't his style and the man very rarely had rage issues that needed to be taken out on the large bag. Yami had used it a few times in the last week or so, now that the physiotherapist finally gave up and allowed the young man to start his old daily regime, with some heavily enforced modifications. Moving down the stairs he peered down into the open basement, sure enough he caught sight of the young EMT pounding he bag in the far corner. Stopping at the bottom of the stairs he peered on silently, taking advantage of the fact that his presence was un-noticed and watched Yami move.

He had been recovering quickly. Physiotherapy was doing him a world of good, bringing back a great deal of his flexibility already and enabling him to move around without any aid and with nearly no pain. He had the odd twinge if he twisted wrong, or too fast, but otherwise his dexterity was rapidly returning.

Crossing his arms he leaned against the wall, gaze wandering over the young man's moving form. He had lost the near sickly gauntness that he had gained during the month of immobility, a fair deal of muscle mass already returning and filling out areas where he had wasted down to nearly bone. His skin had regained some colour, probably because he was now off his pills and was eating fairly regularly. He held back the blush that threatened to creep across his cheeks as he continued to stare, eyes moving over the tight shirt and somewhat loose track pants.

"You're home early," Yami's voice suddenly cut out, the EMT turning from the bag and peering across at Bakura, eyes showing no surprise at seeing him hiding there.

Trying to not look like a kid caught stealing in a candy store; Bakura pushed away from the wall and strode over, picking up the nearby water bottle and handing it to Yami. "There was nothing left to do, so we left."

Taking the offered water bottle Yami chugged back a large portion of the now warm water, breathing heavy he put it back down on one of the weight machines. Sitting down on one of the floor mats he started stretching, gaze following Bakura as the man sat down across from him. "You alright?"

Shrugging Bakura leaned back, putting his weight on his hands, "Frustrated. Those two cases completely side tracked us from the Caduceus case. We haven't even had time to go and try to change the search warrant."

"Do you think the judge will let you?" questioned Yami, pushing himself through the stiffness that his torso still had as he stretched his back. "He didn't exactly seem to like you."

"We have more proof. Worst case, we go to another judge. We will get the warrant, I can promise that," ground out Bakura, eyes lowering to the ground. "If not, I'll just go in anyway, and railroad the evidence down a jury's throat when we get to court."

Yami chuckled and looked to his friend, "Yup, Bakura is back."

The detective shifted his eyes nervously, and then abruptly changed the topic. "So, just doing a basic workout? Or doing something specific?"

"Working out some frustrations, I suppose," shrugged Yami, turning back to the bag and taking a few light punches at it. "Gods, I cannot wait to get back to work. I am so bored!" He spun deftly on the ball of his foot and lashed out with a powerful kick at the bag emphasizing the last word.

Eyes widening Bakura took an unconscious step back, hands shoving nervously into his pocket, "You know how to sew right?"

Quirking a brow Yami glanced back at him, "I'm not that strong," he grunted, throwing a few light punches at the bag.

Feeling a little courageous, the detective stepped forward and stood behind the bag, grabbing it to provide a more stable target, "No, you are that frustrated though. It's an old bag, and I have beaten it a lot too. Here, keep going, maybe the seams won't rip this way." He grinned slightly as Yami took up his stance again, throwing a couple of light punches, then one heavy one that ricked Bakura back. Grunting, he straightened up, "Not that strong, eh?"

"Not yet," Yami said before clenching his teeth and pummelling the bag with another high kick. "Too damn rusty, and hitting a damn bag isn't really going to help."

"Oh?" questioned Bakura, cringing a bit as he watched the young man twist, kick and punch in ways that he did not believe he should be able to this soon into the healing process.

"Aside from doing katas, I can't properly practise anything without doing it with someone," he grunted without missing a beat. "Hitting this bag can only do so much. I'm not a boxer, never planned on being one, I can't fight like that."

Ducking from another high kick in his general direction Bakura stated simply, "I wouldn't know, never had formal training, I just wail and flail and hope."

Smiling in amusement Yami chuckled, "I kind of guessed that. You do not seem to be the type to be able to adhere to the disciplines of a formal dojo. A boxing or kickboxing ring perhaps, not a dojo."

"Can't use my damn feet to save my life, so the second one is out." He grinned at the small laugh Yami emitted from that, before stumbling back again from a well aimed kick to the bag. "I don't know how useful I would be as a muse for you; I'm not exactly the best at the 'pretty' fighting that you do."

"Pretty fighting huh?"

"Yes, pretty fighting, not meant as an insult. Like I said, I am good at street fighting, fight dirty and hard; then hit them with something. Nothing fancy. You do the fancy shit that I would never be able to keep up with, and that most people on the street don't ever want to encounter either."

"Would you be willing to try?"

Bakura glanced around the bag, peeking a look at Yami, "Sparing with you?" Seeing the nod before the next punch he unconsciously shrugged. "If it would make you feel more confident, I don't see why not."

"Might teach you a few things," Yami stated, stepping away from the punching bag he started moving all the floor mats together. "And vice versa."

"I think more of the former than the latter," the detective murmured, taking off his socks and the thick sweater he was wearing, leaving him in just his jeans and a thin tee-shirt. "Just leave my face intact please, it's my only good feature."

Yami chuckled, "That's a good feature?" He asked. Bakura scowled at him, and Yami just raised a hand in supplication as he finished moving the mats. He stepped up on them, and grinned at his friend. "Well, you're lucky that I generally don't do head shots."

He paused for a moment before adding. "Intentionally."

Bakura shook his head slightly before dropping into a fighters stance, right foot back and left hand in a guarding position, Yami taking the opposite, left foot back and right hand forward. Their stances were almost identical, save that Bakura looked more like a boxer, where Yami had his side to Bakura, presenting a smaller target.

The smaller man stepped forward quickly, lashing out in a quick right kick to the body; Bakura slapped the leg away and drove his fist into Yami's shoulder. He rolled with the punch, rocketing himself forward and launching his other shoulder into the detectives' solar plexus. Bakura grunted with the strike and stumbled back. Yami gave him no quarter, lashing out with directed punches, pushing him further and further back. None of the strikes hit, Bakura was an adept blocker, but the force and speed kept him reeling. Finally, one punch came into the perfect spot, and Bakura slapped the fist upward, firing a quick one-two into the EMT's chest. Yami doubled over with a cough, and in a moment of concern, Bakura dropped his guard, a stunned look on his face. Yami used this to his advantage and launched forward and up, grabbing his friends head and driving a knee into his chest in vengeance.

"Isn't the first rule of the streets never to let your guard down?" he smirked, waiting for Bakura to get up.

"Well….uh…never mind," Bakura raised his guard again, and, not letting Yami move first, stepped in to the target and to the side, fists firing at the stomach, chest and throat. Yami blocked the first two with ease and caught the third, rolling into it. With practiced grace he rolled Bakura over his shoulder and onto the floor, the larger man's body making a dull thud on the hard surface. With the ease of one who seemed to be used to looking up at his opponent from the floor, Bakura rolled with the impact and sprung to his feet. He was still a little off balance when he felt a heavy pressure on his knee, and looked to see a dark and light blur launch upward. He missed, however, seeing the foot that struck him in the head, knocking him to the ground again.

Constellations came into existence behind Bakura's eyes as he stood, shaking them away. "It looks like I might have to be a bit more serious about this," he grinned and rushed Yami, stepping on his foot to reduce his mobility and rocking the smaller man with body blows. Yami could not block in time as he was hit six times in rapid succession. Stomach, ribs, shoulder and finally, a hit to the sternum sent the red-eyed man falling back. Bakura was on him again, and though he tried, Yami could not predict the detective's movements, nor get a guard up in time. Shots looking to come into the ribs changed direction and hit the stomach, head shots turned into shoulder hits. He wiggled his foot out from under Bakura's and suddenly, he was able to block again. Yami bent over to dodge a body hook, and sprung back, putting some distance between the detective and himself. Bakura was grinning, and rocketed himself forward again. Yami watched him come, jumped up, spring boarding himself off the wall, and with an intricate spin, brought his foot down square between Bakura's neck and shoulder. The detective crumpled and hit the ground hard, head spinning and shoulder feeling out of place.

Trying to correct his vision Bakura shakily rose to a knee. Yami did not give him the chance to finish, elbow slamming into Bakura's back, his body following after to increase of the blow. Winded, Bakura remained sprawled on the floor, Yami lying across his back panting heavily. He knew their little match was over, there was no way in hell he was getting up now, not without having his pride and dignity handed to him on an even larger platter than it already had been.

Rolling off of Bakura Yami lay on his back, eyes closed as he calmed his breathing. "Thanks."

"For what?" Bakura rasped out, turning onto his side.

"Sparing needed that."

"No problem. Ask whenever you need it again, I don't mind having my ass handed to me by you," he grinned when seeing the amused smirk on Yami's face. "You going to that New Year Party at the hall, or staying home?"

"Soren's dragging me to the hall, and Eric and Alex didn't exactly give me the option of saying no," he answered, voice showing his nervousness.

"I could come with you if you want. Grey and I would much rather drag our asses to hang with paramedics then party in that dungeon."

Shaking his head, Yami sat up "No, I'll be fine; I doubt that those three will let me out of their arms reach now, never mind their vision range."

"He won't try that again, Yami. You know that," Bakura said in a reassuring tone, almost reading the younger mans thoughts, but mainly seeing the look of concern on his face.

With a wry smile, Yami chuckles, "I can hope, but we haven't been right in terms of predicting his movements thus far."

Bakura couldn't help but agree, "We still have no clue where he is, and I have a feeling like we will not until he hits us over the head with it."

"I think he is still in town."

With a widened gaze, Bakura looked over, the light making his russet eyes flash, "What makes you think that?" He demanded.

Yami shrugged, regretting saying anything, but managed to get out his thought, "He is not a coward, he will not run. He is too much in control of the situation. He is, to use the saying; the one holding all the cards. He will not leave till what he feels he needs to do is done, or he is caught."

"Then why," Bakura drawled out, eyes downcast in thought, "Are you still alive? Why hasn't he just come and finished you?"

"He is in control, remember? He has all the time in the world, at least in his mind. He is planning, he is waiting and watching. What he has done before, has not worked. He needs a new plan of attack. That is why I cannot just sit here, Bakura. I need to continue my life, or else I let him win. I fear him, he wins. The more I feel the hostage, the more he is victorious."

Bakura just sighed, head in his hands. He wiped a bead of sweat from his brow, not knowing what to think, what to feel. To hear Yami at this time was like hearing a voice in his head voicing his own fears. He exhaled sharply, then looked up, "Alright, we will do this again tomorrow, and everyday if you want, help us work off our winter laziness," he stood, hoping that the topic change was obvious enough to his friend. "I'll order in tonight, don't worry about cooking."

Heading up the stairs, he could not help but flinch at the dejected tone that Yami's voice had taken. He felt bad about brushing off his friend's feelings, but he could not handle it right now. He knew that Yami had a good head on his thoughts and emotions, and his avoidance had only confirmed his friend's fears.

123123123123123

The house was silent save for the soft breathing of the three residents and the soft steps of a dog as he made his rounds. For the early morning of New Years day, it was calm, no random cheering drunkards outside, not even a light breeze.

Abruptly, the shrill noise of the house phone ringing jolted the homes occupants into alertness, and Reno's heart rate into the roof.

Russet eyes snapping open, then painfully shutting again, Bakura blindly groped for the noise making device. It was then he realized that he had drank too much the previous night. The blank spaces in his memory attributed to that idea, as did the 100 member marching band dancing between his temples. The ringing demon screamed once again, and in his vengeful attempt to strike out at it, he found himself on the ground, looking up at his bed. The dull ache in his arm and back still held no candle to the pounding that was in his skull, but with his elbow, he found the demonic device. With squinted eyes he looked at the demon. He recognized this obnoxious device, at least, he thought he should. "Phone," the word drawled off his lips, before it piped up with its jingle again. He stabbed at buttons with his finger, when a telltale beep sounded. He put it up to his ear, "What. Do. You. Want."

"Morning, grumpy!" came the cheerful voice of Grey over the line, "Time to get up. We have ourselves a case, Williams wants us to be down there, apparently, we are going to want to see this."

"Ouch, quietly, Grey." There was a pause, as he looked up to see Yami standing sleepily in the doorway, "Now, why?"

"He said something about a possibility of it being connected with our friend Alphonse. Get over to the address I am texting you, the sooner the better." The line went dead.

"Fucker!" Bakura screamed, throwing the phone. The loud bang it made as it hit the wall made him groan in pain.

"Here," Yami thrust a couple painkillers and a cup of water into his hand. "I'll go make coffee."

Bakura nodded, and watched as Yami turned away before crumpling to the floor in pain. He crawled to the dresser and threw on whatever he could find that fit, splashed some water on his face in the bathroom, then searched for a pair of sunglasses. "This had better be worth it."


	12. Chapter 12

SILHOUETTE

_**A/N:**__ Thanks to BlackenedGem, Toxic Hathor (give a lot of thank to her, because she is awesome and made me smile on a not so good writing day) for reviewing, you two are awesome, thanks for showing me that some are still reading this. _

_I don't own Yugioh_

**CHAPTER TWELVE**

"Has it been confirmed?"

The coroner nodded, hands folding the top of the sheet neatly, tucking it under the pale cold chin, covering her properly. Finished he meandered around the table, larger belly narrowly missing the corner, thick hands grabbing the clipboard, "Her sister had come down from Vancouver by plane a couple of hours ago after we called. Apparently her hadn't responded to any phone calls from family or friends since the beginning of the month. Her husband had called around and said merry Christmas, telling all of them that she was busy at the time of the call."

Chancing to take his sunglasses off Bakura took the clipboard from the coroner, eyes –bleary and blood shot – skimmed over the pages absorbing the information. Scowling he passed it off to Grey, leaning against the metal morgue table he stared down at the victim, the name running through his brain over and over again as he took in her badly water logged form. Alicia Caine. She had been in the water for at least a month. Her skin was devoid of all colour and stretched from bloating, wrinkled much like the tips of someone's fingers after staying in the bath too long. Her eyes were wide open, eerie bright blue iris' staring blankly up at the ceiling, milky and empty.

"Two stab wounds to the heart are what killed her, both pierced it dead on, one hit the artery and the other through the muscle, the second was hesitant. She was more than likely dead instantly, or within a minute. She was found in the river, stuck in a patch of freezing water in the middle, the only place along that stretch of the river that isn't frozen. There was a scarf around her eyes, and another around her wrists, keeping a cross in her hands."

Grey pursed his lips, "He was remorseful."

Reluctantly Bakura nodded in agreement, "He covered her eyes so he would not have to see the betrayal. Put a cross in her hands to guide her to heaven I am guessing. He was gentle with her too, quick clean kill, the hesitation in the second wound indicates that he lost it and regretted what he did. This wasn't planned; he did not want to kill her. She must have found him out or at least found something pertaining to the case that made him snap."

The coroner shrugged, placid and uncaring, "Regardless he killed his wife, plus what, sixteen other people…"

"Seventeen…seventeen," Bakura interjected sharply.

"Seventeen," the coroner continued while taking off his gloves with a resounding snap before chucking them in the garbage bin. "I have a hard time believing that there is much left for emotions in that man other than pure evil. Anyway, moving on, there was something found in her clothes, it was a piece of paper in a plastic bag. It's was a little water logged so I sent it off to the lab for the proper people to analyze it and tell the two of you what it said. Now, I need to complete the autopsy, vacate please. I will call you if I find anything more." With that he waved his hands dismissively at the two detectives, shooing them out of the building.

"So what now," Grey questioned, though he saw the coming answer, smiling as he climbed into the driver's seat of the car.

Slamming the car door shut and re-adorning his sunglasses, Bakura grinned, "We are going to pay our little judge friend a visit."

"_Give it another week worth of rest and physiotherapy and I'd say that you're good to return back to work, with restrictions mind you of course."_

Yami continued to run that sentence through his head like a mantra as he drove home from the doctor's office. Coming to a red light he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, staring forward blankly. It was shocking him, he thought he would be elated to hear that, yet something was dragging him down. A deep scowl formed on his face, sighing stiffly he snapped back into reality in time to see the light turn.

Absently thankful that he was missing the start of the noon rush hour traffic, his mind was wondering too much. He was trying to be happy and excited, but something was nagging at the back of his mind, taking away his ability to rejoice. Cursing when he realised that his thinking would have made him miss his turn, he turned the corner to the house hard and fast. _I should not be driving, fucking over active brain,_ he growled mentally.

Pulling into the driveway he switched the car off and collapsed back, closing his eyes with a heavy sigh. He wanted to go back to work; he wanted some sort of normalcy to return to his life. But, in the back of his mind his consciousness was reminding him of that shadow that was still free and lurking, looming around and giving him the permanent feel of eyes on the back of his neck. Until Alphonse was caught, nothing was going to be safe, never mind normal. Biting his lip he cursed loudly and vehemently slammed his fisted hand against the steering wheel. Cringing he shook his head, _that'll leave a mark,_ grabbing his jacket with his opposite hand he got out of the car and strode to the house. Unenthusiastically greeting Reno he hung up his jacket and wrenched off his shoes.

"Need some tea?"

Jumping in surprise Yami looked up, Mike was in the kitchen holding up a cup of tea with a smile on his face. Steadying his heart rate Yami nodded, berating himself for not being observant and too lost in his own thoughts.

"Something wrong?" Mike questioned, eyes watching the young man walk over, normally alert crimson eyes distant and cloudy. "Usually can't scare you."

Taking the tea Yami meandered over to the couch, "Just out of it," he murmured. It was the partial truth at least; he still needed to process the other part first before talking about it.

Not fooled, but not willing to push, Mike left the kitchen and sat on the sectional across from Yami. "Bakura tried to all you, he said you didn't answer your cell. He'll be home pretty quick here."

"Should probably make lunch them, and get some painkillers out," Yami said quietly.

Grinning Mike said cheekily, "Had a bit too much to drink last night did he, I should turn on some folk music, really loud. I'm sure he'd appreciate it."

Yami could help but smile, "If you want to sign your death warrant, go ahead."

"Finally a smile," Mike teased, averting his attention to Reno, the dog insistently dropping one of his balls onto the man's lap. Quirking a brow he chucked it towards a wall, whooping when it bounced perfectly and rolled down the basement stairwell. "Yes, took all damn morning!"

Shaking his head Yami rose to his feet and strode into the kitchen, absently drinking his tea as he rummaged through the pantry to figure out what he was going to make. Seeing Reno bounding towards him in his peripheral vision Yami reached out, grabbed the ball, and without turning from looking in the panty, three the ball with a single bounce. It went down the stairs with Reno careening after it.

Mike scowled playfully, "Show off."

Flashing a smirk Yami pulled a few things out of the cupboards, "How soon was he going to be home?"

"He said he was ten minutes away when he called, that was just before you got through the door," Mike expounded, propping his feet up on the coffee table and flicking on the TV.

Within minutes of Yami throwing some stock, vegetables, leftover meat and rice into a pot, Bakura dragged his ass through the door, non-chalantly dropping his bag on the floor, taking off shoes and jacket. Stumbling to the couch and collapsing into the plush cushions. He let out a groan and allowed himself a moment of relaxation. A moment later, a glass of water and a couple of painkillers were roughly shoved into his hands, and Bakura opened his eyes to see Yami standing there. His vision swam, but he got over his shock long enough to mumble his thanks. The pills went down with a few swallows of water before his voice finally came back to him, "How did the appointment go?"

Yami stiffened, he tried to relax, hoping that the detective would not notice his tenseness, "Same as always, everything is healing well and properly. I am to continue physiotherapy to bring myself back to normal."

Bakura missed Yami's reaction to the question, and continued sipping water, "Good, hopefully he will get you to wait till the end of the month before allowing you back to work, you are still stiff. Also, it gives us a little longer to catch the bastard."

Sensing growing discomfort from the youngest in the room, Mike piped in and changed the subject, "You only home from lunch brat?" he questioned Bakura, "that early of a wakeup call usually means that you will be working all day."

The detective simply nodded once, "We got the search warrant," this time he noticed Yami's reaction, the stiffening of muscles in the shoulders, but ignored it, "We are going there after food and some rest, most of the crew was burning the midnight oil."

"Then what was the call for? Everyone on the list was dead." Mike stated. Yami had walked back into the kitchen to finish the soup, and warm some buns. When he heard Bakura's answer, he cursed and threw the soup ladle across the kitchen. Storming out into the livingroom, he saw Mike and Bakura staring at him. Yami leaned in close to Bakura, eyes bright with anger and fear.

"Say that again?"

"It is his wife."

Yami scowled as Bakura filled him in on the details from his visit to the coroner as Yami went back and served the soup. "It was remorseful," the detective concluded. He said this in an assuring tone to Yami, knowing how the young man's train of thought would go. "She probably found something incriminating. He made it quick and clean, painless."

"Go, sit, let me finish this up. Go to the table."

Bakura sighed and sat down, regretting blurting out that bit of information. It was the confirmation that they both did not want. Alphonse was still in the city, under their fingertips, but still out of reach. Yami brought the soup, and sat beside his friend, and Bakura made to rest a hand on his shoulder. The younger moved away, then stood to get other things from the kitchen. "You ok?" Bakura asked.

"Not now, Bakura," replied Yami, "you do not have time. Eat, nap, execute your warrant, we can talk later."

Mike silently joined them at the table, having to serve his own bowl of soup. Neither of the others noticed him until he coughed delicately, "Play nice children."

One hard hit was all it took. The door splintered and flew inward, barely supported on the hinges. Bakura and Grey stood back and waited while the police officers cleared the house. Even though they had guns at their hips and Kevlar vests on, they still had to follow protocol. Bakura paced back and forth, trying for a better view of the inside of the house, but was unsuccessful. The only thing he could see was a small patch of blood on the living room carpet.

One of the officers called from inside the house, "Clear!"

Trembling, both from anticipation and trepidation, Bakura stepped through the threshold and into the house, Grey right behind him. Immediatly he allowed his senses to go wild, cringing when his nose caught the odour of dried blood, rotten food and massive amounts of dust. Avoiding the red stain, he wandered about the house, gazing about. Apart from a month of abandonment, the house was tidy, everything in a proper place, the furniture simple and tasteful. Family pictures decorated the wall going up the stairs; smiling, happy faces. Beautiful memories.

Sighing, Bakura glanced back over his shoulder and saw the forensics team come in. One of the members presented him with a hairnet, shoe caps and a pair of gloves. Mentally slapping himself, he donned the protective gear before he started up the stairs. The pictures on the wall stared back at him, eerie faces from the past with their frozen smiles and glassy looks. He knew he was looking upon the dead, and that kind of unnerved him. Shaking off the feeling, he continued to the top of the staircase and into the hallway. His breath caught inhis throat as he peered into the clearly untouched room of a teenaged boy, the name Devon in wooden letters on the door. Soccer gear was strewn about the floor, soccer and band posters plastering the walls, along with random pictures.

"Six years, and they did not touch it," came Greys voice from behind him as the former stepped through the bedroom door.

"Feels like a shrine," commented Bakura, "His face is everywhere." Bakura stopped speaking, his gaze taking in the view before him. The mattress was flipped up against the wall, exposing the frame and a perfectly cut square hole in the bottom of the mattress. Open on the bed frame was a black fireproof safebox. He looked into the box, his breath hitched, then left in a gust.

"What is it?" Grey asked, coming up and looking over Bakuras shoulder. Bakura's hand trembled as he motioned toward the black box, then reached in for a picture. Grey peered at it as well, cursing softly when he saw what it really was. "Yami." The picture was of the EMT asleep, in the hospital, from what seemed to be the second visit there. "We were right," continued Grey with a stammer, as he stepped around beside his partner and shuffled through the contents of the box before simply dumping it onto the bedframe. There were pictures of all his victims, pre and post mortem along with an excessive amount of pictures of Yami. "He stalked them," something clicked in Grey's brain, "and he is still stalking Yami."

"That fucking prick," growled Bakura, clenching his fists and crushing the picture in his hand.

Grey glanced up and took in his partners tense muscles and stiffened stance. With a non aggressive posture, he touched Bakura on the shoulder and turned him, guiding him out of the room. "Calm down, don't get too worked up over it. I need you, I need your concentration and your mind on processing the house. Worry later, think later. We need to nail this guy, and I need you to help do it." Grey grinned as Bakura relaxed, then he quipped, "And don't damage the evidence, eh?" glancing to the picture in Bakura's hand. The former blushed, and Grey clapped him on the shoulder. "Let's go check out the basement."

Bakura just nodded, and together they headed down past the pictures, which once more unnerved Bakura, and towards the basement door.

Over his shoulder, Grey called back to a forensics team member, "Upstairs, first door to the left. Go bag the stuff on the bed frame, the box too." Slowly the duo headed down the stairs.

"We can't tell him, you know," muttered Bakura as he went down the stairs ahead of Grey.

"About the pictures, you mean?"

Bakura nodded stiffly and glanced over his shoulder at his partner, "He is having enough issues just thinking about the man and the fact that we have no idea where he is. We don't need to tell him just how possessive the man has become over him."

Grey simply scowled, stepping off the stairs behind Bakura. Ghosting around the group of forensics officers that were gathering samples, "He has probably already figured that out, Bakura. He is not quite that oblivious. Naive, yes, oblivious," he trailed off with a wave of his hand.

Bakura stopped and looked at Grey, "It would be confirmation, something he's had too much of lately. He is losing it, I can tell. He probably feels trapped enough as it is just knowing that Alphonse is still in the city."

"True enough," muttered Grey as they opened the door at the bottom of the stairs and entered the basement. Running his gloved hand along the wall, Grey found a light switch. The bright lights flared on, and, eyes adjusting to the sudden illumination, the pair peered around the room. It was unfinished, but it had an entrance to the outside, and there were bicycles near the door. Weight equipment was organized in one corner, dusty, but clearly actively used. A few pieces of painted plywood had been knocked together to form a couple of walls in the back corner, a framed in door with a padlock latch on it, the lock removed.

"Office, maybe?" asked Bakura as they strode toward it.

"No," replied Grey, "that is upstairs, just off the kitchen. Perhaps it is a storage room?" A little push on the door was all it took to open it. Bakura noticed the scraping sound that the bottom of the door made, then was hit with the heady odour of formaldehyde. All of the walls were covered top to bottom with shelves. Tools and boxes in neatly labelled spots; random broken items and disused children's toys adorned the counters. The entire room was covered in dust, save a few small items on the floor which drew the detectives' attention. On their sides, ten large glass canning jars, nearly empty save for some clear liquid in them, with dark spots on the concrete floor in what were puddles.

"Ten," muttered Bakura.

"Trophies?" asked Grey. Bakura nodded. The possibility was too great for them not to be. He pulled out evidence bags and dropped the jars, liquid and all into individual ones. After a moment of labelling, he looked around and saw the place that the jars had been, the circular spots unmarred by the heavy dust coating. Grey snapped pictures all around.

"He knew he was going to be found out. He must have been here in the last day or two to collect up his evidence. Warmer weather, he knew the ice in the Bow would melt, and we would find Alicia," rambled Grey. "I bet he has even checked up on the spot he dumped her, hells, the bastard is probably watching all of us right now as we check out his home."

"Yeah," Bakura pondered a moment, then grabbed his radio, "Williams, pass out pictures of the suspect, get a couple people together and do a beat, see if he is around. And for gods sake, send them out in pairs, you know what this guy has done."

123123123123123123

Pulling into the driveway, Bakura cringed as he looked at the clock on the stereo. It was already way past dinner and bed time, and even through the copious amounts of water and painkillers, his hangover still raged in his head. He grabbed his jacket and headed for the house, nearly missing the fact that there was a light on in the kitchen. Entering the abode, he nearly stumbled over Reno, who decided that attempting to slalom his legs would be a good time. Glaring down at him, the detective mumbled, "It is a good thing you are cute, bloody dog."

"It is the only thing he has going for him," came a voice from the living room. Peering across the room, Bakura spied Yami sitting on the couch, book in his lap. A soft beep came from the kitchen, and Yami continued, "Dinner is in the microwave for you. Painkillers and tea are on the counter."

"Thanks." Off came his shoes, and the jacket was hung on a peg before Bakura grabbed his plate and glass. Taking his plate from the microwave and glass from the counter, Bakura plopped down on the couch on the far side from his roommate. "What are you reading?"

Yami held up the book, allowing Bakura to see the hard cover of a medical text, and the latter smirked, "Bored much?"

"Not really."

"Then why torture yourself with it?"

"Well, I am going back to work soon, I should brush up, should I not?"

Bakura nearly choked on his fork full of food, "So soon? I thought you had at least a month of leave left." He looked over at Yami suspiciously.

"I do," Yami confirmed, "however, depending on what the doctor says next week, I should be good to go back early. He said that I am basically healed up, and he just wants to run a few more tests and have me do another week of physio before I try and get back into it."

Gulping back painkillers and tea, and feeling his stress level go up a notch, "So, the appointment went well then, I take it?"

"I guess you could say that," replied Yami cautiously.

"You guess? I thought you wanted to go back, in fact I remember you telling me the other day you couldn't waid considering how bored you were."

Yami returned his attentions to the text and shrugged absently, "I do. I want to go back, but I haven't decided yet if I am going to go back now or wait until my leave is finished."

"I thingthat would be the wiser choice," Bakura said bluntly. "You have suffered a lot, both mentally and physically. You are stiff, sore, and your asthma has been bothering you more than normal. You could use the additional month of recuperation."

Yami looked at his friend out of the corner of his eye, "And, Alphonse is still at large," Bakura just grunted. "What if I told you," Yami continued, "that there are a lot of restrictions that I will have to follow when I do return."

"Like?"

"Like, I will not be allowed to do night shifts, nor will I be attending any possible homicides. I will have Soren with me, and another EMT with me at all times. Also, I will be restricted to a desk if there are any further complications of my injuries, until such time as I pass a full physical examination. Frankly, however, they need whatever manpower they can get out there right now. You know that, you are in the same boat, hence you getting home at this time."

Bakura sighed, "I can't say I like the idea, Yami, but the choice is yours to make. I know how important your work is to you, and I agree, any help is good help right now. I hope, however that you will reconsider."

"I will think about it," Yami demurred, "I doubt my mind will be changed though. I need this, Bakura, I don't know if you fully understand. Gods, even if I take a teaching position, or a desk job, or something, if I can not do the job I love, I have to do something" he heavily emphisized the last word.

"You are right, I don't fully understand, but I will try. I know that you need this, and if you took on a teaching position, or a desk job, I would not have a problem. Going back out there though, I don't know if that is the best idea right now. I mean, this guy killed his own wife to prevent getting caught, and we know he is after you. All you would be doing is making yourself an easier target."

"And I am not a target here? He has come here twice, what is preventing a third, or a fourth. If I am out working, at least I am constantly on the move, I am not an easier target that way, I will be harder to get to because he will not be able to track me as easily. I will feel safer out there than I ever do here."

Bakura could not help but concede that point, but barrelled on in his arguement anyway, "You will not have the protection out there that you have here. There is no way to prevent you attending a call like last time, where you walked right into his trap!"

"Protection? Here? Glass and trees are not protection, Bakura. And yes, there is! I will not be entering a scene till it's cleared by Soren and whomever I am with. I am the last person in, do you know how much of a blow to the ego that is for me? I have always been the first in, the first to help, and now I have to sit on the sidelines until I am permitted to enter! Permitted!"

"Yes, protection. Grey, Mike, and I are always around. After last time, he will come nowhere near here again, he is not that stupid."

"But he is that arrogant. He is also not stupid enough to try another call out, after how badly the last time failed."

"But he is that arrogant," mocked Bakura, "I know you are going to be stubborn about this, I know you are going to go back, I don't like it, that is all. He is still out there, and at least here, if he tries something, I know where you are and can get to you with relative ease. When you are roaming about the city, I will never know if I can get to you in time to save you."

"I don't need to be saved!" screamed Yami, "I need to live my life, I need to not be afraid, and I need to get back to doing what I love, what I desire, and what I am damn good at. I can, have and will again save myself if really comes down to it, I don't need you to be looking over my shoulder all the time waiting for the chance to rescue me once more."

The empty plate clattered to the floor as Bakura stood and walked away. He paused at his doorway after flicking on the light, then came back to the living room. Taking a deep breath, he finally spoke through clenched teeth, "I can not, will not allow you to be hurt again as you have been."

Yami stood and faced him, face contorted in anger, "I can take care of myself, Bakura. I don't need you to look after me. I am a big boy now," he sneered.

Bakura stepped closer, looming over his shorter companion, "Take care of yourself? I have seen you hospitalized twice when you thought you could take care of yourself, and the only person I have seen you beat is me. Once was a cheap shot, the other time I was only sparring, not actually trying to cause you injury."

"One of those hospitalizations was to protect my father, you would do the same thing for Mike. The other time was unavoidable. I was already injured."

"You are still injured now! Do you think that you could fight anyone, defend yourself from anyone in your current state? Do you? In the state you are in, you would crumple after one punch, delivered or received."

Bakura did not even see the right straight punch that hit him in the eye, "Did I crumple? I don't think so. I can give you that and a hundred more before I even break a fucking sweat!"

The detective touched his hand to his eye, feeling a slight swelling before glaring down at Yami, "A hundred more of those and you might actually cause a bruise."

Yami growled and lept up, whipping out a hard hook kick with his right leg. Bakura deftly caught the incoming blow, and bowled Yami to the ground. Bakura jumped atop him, attempting to lock Yami's arms down at the elbows with his knees. He was not quite in position, and the smaller man got a knee up, crashing Bakura just under the armpit. Bakura felt the bone give way, and bright lights flashed in his eyes. Yami was up in an instant, and Bakura just behind him, though the detective was cradling his left side where the rib broke. It was all he could do to keep up with his blocks as Yami delivered blow after blow, alternating punches, elbows, kicks, knees and headbutts. The attacks were furious, but ill timed, and Bakura kept defending and waiting. Finally he saw the opening he needed, and reared back, delivering a punishing right straight punch directly to Yami's sternum. The EMT crashed back against the wall, gasping. His breath came shallow and ragged, his head hung down against his chest. Bakura blinked at him, noticing that he was not moving save for the small movements of his chest.

"Um, Yami?" There was no response, only a greater gasping and wheezing. "Fuck! Where is the damned puffer!" Bakura went into a frenzy, searching for the L shaped life-saving device for his younger friend. Finding it on Yami's night stand, he then ran back, and timed the breathing, before administering a double dose. A few coughing moments later, Yami looked up at him, dazed and confused, head being kept from rolling by Bakura's hands cupping his chin.

"Bakura, you have a black eye."

"Broken rib too," he grimaced, standing.

"What happened?"

"What do you mean what happened? You happened. I have to concede, maybe you can defend yourself," Bakura emphasized the word 'can.'

"Sorry?" Yami looked up at him with hooded eyes and slowly tried to stand, before gasping in pain.

Bakura came over and helped him up, hooking his arms under the young man and slowly pulling him up. "You fight well, but you always end up hurt. Need to work on your defence," muttered Bakura, biting his lip when Yami winced again. "Need a minute?"

Nodding Yami tried to relax, leaning against the wall, Bakura's hands resting at either side of his shoulders. Vision spinning he tried to focus his wavering vision on Bakura's face, hands reaching up he gripped them around the man's arms. He had blacked out; he had realized that, hands trembling as he tried to pull back the memories of just a moment ago. Unable to he murmured, "Sorry, I can't believe I lashed out at you."

Sighing Bakura peered into Yami's wine eyes, his one hand unconsciously reaching up and running along the EMT's jaw, "Don't be, I egged you on."

Resisting the shiver that Bakura's light caress had caused Yami dropped his gaze, "Doesn't justify me doing exactly what I don't want him to do to any of you."

Scowling the detective rested his hand at the base of Yami's neck, feeling the young man's trembling from more than just his asthma he gently encouraged Yami to tilt his head up, finally looking at him again. "Don't say another word, and don't you dare feel guilty or bad about what just happened. We both needed it, both of us, you to prove to me what you can do with more than just words, and me to open my damn eyes. I don't want to lose you, that is why I don't want you going out there where I can't be there immediately to help. You've been put through hell and back Yami, I don't want any more to happen to you, I would not be able to look at myself every again if something did and I wasn't there."

"Stop," Yami whispered, voice hoarse, his emotions making his throat raw. "I want my freedom back, yes, that is mostly what this is about. But, the other part of me wants this to end, and to end without him coming anywhere near you or anyone else that I care about. My mind could not handle losing someone else, I'd rather it just be me that gets hurt than anyone else."

Tensing Bakura closed his eyes, "That's not going to happen," he said through clenched teeth, his other hand coming up to cup Yami's cheek. Staring into bewildered crimson eyes he swallowed hard, forcing his breathing and heart rate to calm. Trembling he moved unconsciously forward, mind suddenly shut off as he shoved aside the nightmarish images that were plaguing him, his imagination going wild. Gently, and without any resistance, he pushed Yami against the wall, moving flush up against him. He could feel the shaking in Yami's body increase as the young man stared up at him, uncertainty but trust radiating from his gaze. Without a thought, and without hesitation, he dipped his head down till their lips were barely centimetres apart, whispering. "I won't lose you, I won't."

Body on overdrive Yami felt his head spinning, but no longer from lack of breathing. He could feel his body shaking, heating up from the contact, gripping at Bakura's shoulders with nervousness and uncertainty. Swallowing hard he stammered out, unsure what to do with this reaction, everything that his body and mind were doing overwhelming him. "Kura'?"

He could resist no longer, taking a shallow breath Bakura close the final distance between them, lips pressing against Yami's gently. Yami gasped, body initially tensing up before relaxing under his gentle ministrations. Bakura could swear in that moment that he had gone to heaven, his senses filled with euphoria and pleasure like he had never experienced before. Never had even kissing any of his old lovers gave him this high, this sensation of pure bliss. His one hand ghosted down from Yami's cheek to the young man's trembling side, resting there and rubbing in a soothing manner. Only then did he feel Yami's grip on his shirt loosen and his hands drift down his arm.

Finally the need to breathe forced Bakura to pull away, breathing heavy he stared down into the ruby eyes that he adored. He couldn't deny it, Grey was right; he cared far more about the man in his arms far more than he had ever wanted to care about anyone. Yami was still trembling in his arms; some of the intense innocence that he had suspected existed was gone. He could tell just by the young man's reaction that no one had ever touched him in such a manner, never mind kissed him. Forcing his breathing to calm he allowed a small smile to grace his face, relieved when it seemed to slightly lessen Yami's shaking, "And that's why," he murmured, the hand behind the young man's head slipping to caress down Yami's neck, causing the young man to shiver.

The impatient tapping of a foot behind them snapped Bakura around, one hand still supporting the young man. Mike stood at the top of the stairwell down into the basement; arms crossed, eyes narrowed playfully and a small grin across his face. "If you two are about done trying to destroy my house, there are some that are trying to sleep."

"Sorry Mike," the two murmured in unison, Yami blushing profusely when the man winked at them.

"Go to bed you two," Mike said, smile widening before descending the stairs back into the basement, leaving the two alone again.

Averting back Bakura stared down at Yami's blushing face, reaching out he tilted Yami's head up to face him with a single finger. "Sleep, we'll talk tomorrow."

Nodding Yami stumbled away from the wall and walked to his room. Stopping in the doorway he peered across at Bakura, eyes filled with confusion, but he did not say a word, merely disappeared into his room quietly closing the door.

A/N: Hopefully this chapter was better for all of you. R and R please ^^


	13. Chapter 13

SILHOUETTE

_**A/N:**__ Thanks to Blue September, Junki, Blackened Gem, yami yasi, EgyptianSoul.88, kiki2222, zevym, punktheway, Aurineko, DreamerNumber3 and Jazz-Lou you guys are all fabulous and amazing and way too praising, lol, but it makes me feel so good about doing a comeback to fanfiction. You guys are awesome, thanks :D hopefully you all like this chapter. _

_And, as I always do, sorry for taking so long to update. I was working 6 days a week and unless I wrote at work, I didn't get anything done done. That is the only way the last chapter was done, I spent my dead time at work writing and then let my boyfriend do his speedy fast typing and type it out for me. And since my work schedule has returned to some form of normalcy life decided to get busy. Needless to say between working, moving my mother out of my house, and getting everything arranged for school… I have been busy ^^; _

_Hopefully this chapter is worth the wait :D If not...the fun starts next chapter :D hehehehehehe_

_I don't own Yugioh_

**CHAPTER THIRTEEN**

His mind was still spinning, still running it over and over before his eyes. It was like a movie put on repeat with no way to turn it off or even mute it. It just continued to play, forcing him to relieve it and replay the emotions that it had allowed back to the surface. The repetition and lack of sleep had created a rather nasty headache. Growling he rolled over and slammed his pillow over his head, burying his head into the mattress. "Dammit!"

He could not get the kiss out of his mind, nor the sentence that was spoken before it. Emotions that he had been desperately trying to quell and not let grow, suddenly had new found hope and were intensifying without his consent or ability to control them. He wanted to suppress it all, force lies into his mind in an attempt to tell himself that it was all a lie, or a dream. But he knew it had not been a dream, his need to take a cold shower and the sensation of Bakura's lips and hands on him was still lingering. Dreams had never given him such a sensation, or feeling of pure euphoria.

Sighing Yami lifted his head out from under the pillow and stared at the clock. _Nine thirty, better get up_, he thought not wishing to lay in bed any longer waiting for the inevitable ring of his alarm. Clambering out of bed he pulled on a housecoat, stepping over a barely conscious Reno he opened the bedroom door and strode towards the kitchen. He almost tripped in shock when the sound of the fridge door opening lifted his attention from the floor to reveal Bakura grabbing items from the fridge. Swallowing, stared at the man that had caused him not to sleep. Shoving his hands into his pockets he made to swivel and retreat back into his room.

"You're up early," Bakura's voice chimed out, stopping him from finishing turning. Smiling stiffly Yami nodded, remaining where he was. The detective peered at him over the island, his hands busy making three cups of coffee. Russet eyes clearly noting his rigidity and nervousness. "You alright?"

"Mhm," Yami murmured, eyes shifting around the room. "Didn't hear you get up."

"Been up for an hour or so, so has Mike," Bakura stated, grabbing two of the cups. Crossing the floor to Yami he handed it to him. Gingerly the young EMT took it with a nod of thanks, digits grazing against his hand. Catching the shiver it caused to ripple through Yami Bakura reached out to run his hand over the young man's shoulder, wanting to gain that reaction again. Yami skirted away from him, climbing up onto one of the stools at the island. Brow furrowing at the reaction Bakura swallowed against the sudden dryness in his throat, that was not what he was expecting.

"What's for breakfast?" Mike's voice intruded on the almost painful silence. Both lifted their attention to the red neck whom was leaning against the fridge.

"Eggs, bacon, toast..." responded Bakura, brushing past Yami on his way back into the kitchen.

"Good," grunted Mike, walking around he gave Yami and almost comforting pat on the shoulder before sitting in the stool beside him. "I would be going to all the windows if you said something other than that."

Glaring at his uncle Bakura continued to pull out the needed pans and toaster to make breakfast, "Har har, your quite the comedian. When's your physio appointment Yami?"

"Eleven," came the curt reply. "Need to leave in an hour."

"Plenty of time to have some chow," Mike smiled, hand rubbing Yami's back. Feeling the intense stiffness under his digits he quirked a brow at his nephew. Bakura's expression became a mix of sour and perplexity, clearly he was just as confused. "Need to put some more meat on those bones of yours, you're still too thin for my liking," he continued, trying to coax even a smile out of the EMT. All he received was a wry one, Yami's attentions remaining fixated on the counter.

Silence fell over them, the awkwardness hanging heavily along with the intense smell of food. Mike remained on the side lines, watching Bakura's mood depreciate as Yami came and gathered what was needed to set the table. The young man avoiding contact with the detective as much as possible, shivering and silently cursing when he failed. Narrowing his eyes in bewilderment Mike scowled, after what he had witnessed last night this was not the behaviour he was expecting from Yami, and it was clearly throwing Bakura in a knot. Standing up he strode over to Yami, whom was hurriedly setting the table. He needed answers, and he knew the easiest way to get them. Gently he placed his hand on the young man's back. Startled, Yami spun to face him, heart in his throat. In that moment Mike caught the raging emotions swirling in the young man's mind. Uncertainty and fear collided with want and a clear devotion. Mike sighed, seeing enough, the action giving Yami time to put himself back in check and continue what he was doing.

Sitting down at the table Mike continued to watch Yami set the table then help Bakura carry everything over to the table. Catching the internal battle within those ruby eyes had answered all his confusion. Yami wanted it, almost burned for the need for what Bakura had partially confessed to, but was afraid of it. Knowing what the EMT was already like he could discern why. Alphonse. The man had already taken away someone precious from him, along with whatever remained of the young man's self confidence. Through all his determination and brave words Yami was terrified and the idea of falling for someone and giving Alphonse something more to use against him was the last thing he wanted.

Mike was pulled from his pondering by Bakura dishing out food onto his plate and Yami jacking his coffee cup. Blinking he saw Yami balancing the three cups in hands on his way to refill them. Wondering when he had missed all of this Mike called out a thank you to Yami and gave his nephew a smile. Bakura barely returned the gesture, dark eyes watching Yami through his peripheral vision, his expression sullen.

Mike sighed; this was going to be an awkward morning.

After breakfast was eaten and the dishes were cleared away and cleaned, Yami had diverted from the room to shower and left early for his appointment. He barely looked up as he did so, eyes showing the intensity of his thoughts.

From his position by the burning fireplace Bakura watched Yami's vehicle pull out from the driveway and drive off beyond his vision range. Eyes narrowed in thought he unconsciously exhaled deeply, the suddenness of it snapping Mike's attention away from throwing a ball for Reno.

"You alright kiddo?" he questioned.

Shrugging the detective averted to him, russet eyes unfocused, "Sure."

Quirking a brow Mike chucked the ball towards the basement stairs to silence Reno's whining. "Eh, try again. I'm getting old, not stupid."

Pushing away from the wall he was leaning against, Bakura slowly meandered over to the couch. Taking a less than graceful seat beside Mike he folded his hands in his lap. "How much did you see last night?"

"Enough to see that you finally grew some balls," teased Mike, a smirk crossing his features.

Giving the red neck a half-hearted glare Bakura grunted, "Thanks."

Growing serious Mike peered at his nephew, "Erase the thought in that head of yours, it's wrong."

Russet eyes narrowed, "What thought."

"The depressing girlish one of 'oh my feelings are not returned'. It's wrong."

Crossing his arms stiffly Bakura sat back into the couch, a questioning glare directed at his uncle. "Do tell all seeing Sherlock. Tell me what you know that I am apparently oblivious to," he said sardonically.

Shaking his head Mike stated simply, "You have a hard time reading him don't you."

"What of it."

"All you had to do was look in his eyes and let it click. You know him fairly well. What is your shrivelled little brain telling you, and don't give me the bullshit answer that your little emo emotions are forging."

Stumped Bakura gawked at Mike, mentally slapping himself for not seeing this coming. Wheels grinding in his head he mellowed his expression. In the back of his mind his voice had been screaming all morning that the EMT was scared, but he wasn't allowing that to register. He was listening to his heart clenching in reaction to Yami's body language. He knew that the stiffness was fear and uncertainty, but he was not allowing himself to believe that. Instead, he was jumping the gun and automatically assuming the worst. Exhaling stiffly he muttered, "He's afraid."

"Bingo," Mike grinned. "Good, you are smarter than you look."

"Fuck off."

"I want to, but I don't like having an audience."

Cringing in disgust Bakura shook his head. Standing up he slowly walked to his bedroom intending to get ready for work. "Perverted red neck."

"Hey, plant your ass back here, I'm not done with you," Mike called out, curling his finger when Bakura turned to look at him. "You need a lesson in love, a lesson I have yet to teach you."

Bakura quirked a brow at him, "And what makes you so knowledgeable on the subject. You're a perverted old womanizer."

"That's beside the point. Unlike you, I have had my fair share of long term relationships. You, on the other hand, have only ever had bed buddies."

Bakura narrowed his eyes, "There's nothing wrong with that."

Mike held up his hand, gaining silence, "Never said that. However, a relationship requires a lot more than immediately hopping into bed. It takes time, patience and grace to allow feelings to flourish first. Especially with someone who has never been in a relationship before. Someone, who until last night, was untouched."

Bakura quirked a brow, "Have you ever been with someone like him."

"Yes, remember Trisha?" A nod. "She was everything he was; innocent, naive and had never before been in a relationship. She had been too absorbed in her schooling before to pay attention to boys. I had to slow down with her, she refused to do anything until she knew I returned her feelings toward me. Yami is the same way."

"And you know this how?" Bakura questioned.

"Randomly came up in conversation actually. Just the other day," Mike responded flippantly, grinning inwardly at the flash of irritation on Bakura's face. "He said that if someone ever wanted to subject themselves to being with him, that he wanted to be ready before giving anything."

"Mike," Bakura murmured, a small smile on his face, "I already guessed that about him, I am better at reading him than you seem to think."

"Then do right by him, and don't act on hormones, ok?"

"Yeah, have some faith will you?" Bakura turned toward the washroom with a chuckle.

"Nah, that would be too easy!" Mike laughed loudly at the obscene finger flashed in his direction.

Cardboard tray with two steaming coffees in one hand and a bag full of croissants Bakura deftly kicked his car door closed and trekked carefully into the building. Thankful for sliding doors he entered the warmth of the building, bypassing the front desk he headed up the stairs to the homicide office. The wafting smell of coffee and the croissants must have been caught by Grey as the detective appeared at the top of the stairs, a smile on his face, "Oh, you shouldn't have."

Cocking a brow Bakura grunted, shoving the bag into his partner's hands, "Don't get any pretty ideas in your head, I need it more than you do, I just happened to buy extras."

"My my, isn't someone in a pleasant mood," Grey chuckled, following Bakura towards their desks.

"Just tired," Bakura stated, setting everything on the desk before collapsing nonchalantly into his chair.

Grey grinned, the expression dulling when his gaze ran over the rather nasty bruise enveloping his partner's eye and cheek. "What's with the shiner?" he pressed, pointing at it with a scowl. "Get into a fight last night?"

Blanching Bakura raised his hand to gently finger the bruise, wincing when he did, "You could say that," he answered cautiously. Glancing into the blank computer screen he scowled, _he has a harder left hook than I gave him credit for._

Quirking a brow Grey leaned against the desk, his already impressive height making him tower over Bakura and his expression incredulous. His partner did not shrink under the intimidation though, only glared at him. "Spill."

Becoming defensive Bakura held back a snarl, "I don't want to talk about it."

With quick reflexes, and thankfully a great deal of balance, Grey snatched the tray of coffee and bag of croissants before Bakura could sluggishly react. Careful not to spill he stepped out of Bakura's reach, ignoring the weird looks he was getting from their coworkers. "Spill, and the precious hostage will be returned unharmed."

Gawking in shock the young detective stammered out boisterously, "You dirty whore."

"Spill, or I will."

Snapping his jaw shut Bakura clenched his hands and intensified his glare, "Fine, asshole, I'll spill, now get your ass back over here with my coffee!"

Grinning, Grey shook his head, "Start spilling before I do," to prove his point he started tilting the tray sideways.

"Fine! I got into a bit of an encouraged scuffle with Yami. Now, get your ass over here and I'll tell you the rest, the world does not have to hear it," he snapped, hands reaching out in expectation. His heart beat returned to normal when one of the coffees was shoved into his hands along with the bag of croissants. Releasing an exaggerated sigh Bakura relaxed back into his chair, the creaking sound of Grey sitting on the desk opening his eyes. Seeing the expectant look on Grey's face he, with a show of reluctance and spoken in a whisper, explained the happenings of the night before.

Slipping off the desk Grey grabbed his chair and pulled it over. Having been silent through the entire explanation he knew that Bakura was waiting for him to say something. Holding back a grin he retorted, "Took long enough."

Glaring the detective took a long swig of his coffee, "Shut up."

"Mike's right though," Grey stated, reaching over and snatching a croissant from the bag. "Talk to him tonight, Mike's at that dinner thing right?" Bakura nodded in confirmation, absently logging into his computer. "Good, then the two of you can talk in privacy."

"Mhm," Bakura murmured in agreement, "which case are we working on. They are still processing the house; I already called the forensics group to check. All we can really do with that case is read through the notes that they already have and maybe go down there and do another sweep through."

"Do you honestly want to work on that suicide case?"

Cringing Bakura chugged back some coffee, "No, but it was still a suspicious suicide, and we really can't do much on the caduceus case until all the results come back from forensics...which could be a few days to a month."

Shrugging Grey logged onto his computer, "Suicide it is."

"Have you decided what you are doing with that truck yet?" Alex questioned, propping his feet up onto the seat next to him. "You hate that damn thing."

Placing his coffee back down on the table Yami shook his head, eyes absently watching the people around them in the small upscale cafe. Tracing his finger over the rim of the cup he averted his gaze to Alex. The EMT was still in uniform, having come straight to the cafe after work. "Haven't decided if I want to sell it, keep it until the lease is up, or transfer the lease over to Bakura."

"He's taken an interest in it?"

"It's big, it's noisy, a gas guzzler and what he's always wanted. I just haven't broached the subject with him yet, I'm still undecided," he stated, taking a sip of his coffee.

Adjusting the collar of his shirt Alex leaned back in his chair, giving an exaggerated sigh of bliss, gaining a small chuckle from Yami. "How about school, you going to stay as an EMT or are you still planning to go to EMT-P with Soren next year?"

"EMT-P, if I want to go and do STARS eventually like I want I need it, so there's no point in procrastinating. Besides, it means I'll be able to boss you around."

Alex grinned, "Jerk, have you applied yet?"

"No, will be at the end of the month."

"I'm still debating, don't know if I want to torture myself with two more years of school, too damn lazy."

Smiling Yami leaned back, resting his arm over the back of the chair, the other holding his cup of coffee, "I need your opinion on something, I know you won't be as biased as Bakura and maybe not as flamboyant as Soren."

"You were given the go ahead to come back?" Yami nodded in answer. "You sure that you've healed enough?"

Shrugging Yami sighed, "That's the problem. Some days I feel like I am other's I don't. It's been almost two months so everything internally has healed, but everything is still stiff and bruised."

"How are you feeling today?"

"Stiff, I did have a physiotherapy appointment this morning, but alright otherwise, why?"

Pondering Alex tapped his finger on the table, staring intently at Yami while he did so. Pursing his lips he seemed to make his decision and chugged back his coffee. "I've been volunteering my help at SAIT lately with the EMR classes that are running. They have a class today. I could ask the instructor if we could go in and help the class with lifting and stretchers today, would that be a good gage for you to determine to yourself if you could do it now or wait the rest of the month before returning."

"Which instructor?" Yami asked cautiously.

"Craig, the one that you did your practicum with," Alex grinned when seeing Yami smile. "I'll take that as a yes?"

"If I can't lift those damn rookies he'll never let me live it down...why not."

Turning the key and unlocking the door Bakura trudged somnolently into the house. Kicking off his shoes he chucked his jacket onto the coat hanger. Reno was sitting waiting for him, patiently watching him while his tail wagged excitedly. It was in that moment that Bakura actually lifted his head and realised that all the lights were off in the house. Blinking in bewilderment he peered around. Yami's bedroom door was wide open a sign that he was not asleep. No light was peeping through beneath the door to the basement. Swivelling around he glanced outside and for the first time noticed that Yami's vehicle was not in the driveway, just the truck parked out on the street. Narrowing his eyes he checked the clock on the stove, it was nearly nine o'clock.

Pulling his cell phone from his jacket pocket he checked it for the first time in hours. A missed call and voicemail. Clicking the send button and punching in his password he patiently listened through the message, Yami's voice clear on the other end.

"_Hey Kura', Alex asked me if I wanted to help him volunteer with the current EMR group at SAIT. I won't be any later than nine, there are leftovers in the fridge if you can't wait till I get home and cook. I'll see you later, bye."_

Quirking a brow Bakura hung up his cell and placed it on the coffee table. Flicking on the kitchen light he opened the fridge. Finding an unthawed package of pork loin on one of the shelves he pulled it out and placed it on the counter. Unsure of what exactly Yami was going with it he decided to simply pull out the cutting board and a knife before opting for a quick shower.

Over the sound of the water turning off and the fog of him viciously towel drying his hair he heard the front door open and close. His body stiffened, sudden nervousness and dread slamming into him, making the cold air against his chilled skin seem more welcoming. Taking his time he pulled on the pair of thick pyjamas' that he brought in with him. While sliding his feet into his slippers he heard the radio turn on, the music was not loud, but it was oddly calming. Sighing he turned the door handle to the bathroom and stepped out, procrastination was not going to help him, nor was idly sitting on the sidelines and remaining silent like this morning. The instant he spotted Yami in the kitchen a raging current of emotions slammed into him, the most prominent was hurt amplifying the anger that he was feeling.

Yami didn't seem to notice him, busy stirring whatever concoction it was that he had created in the pot. The smell instantly wafted over him and almost made him forget about what he was doing, his stomach protesting against its emptiness. Scowling he pushed aside his overwhelming hunger and strode into the kitchen. His slippers hitting the tile floor caught Yami's attention, crimson eyes snapping up and locking with his. Yami seemed startled, unexacting his abrupt appearance and seeming to have not been ready to face him quite yet. His dark eyes were reeling, uncertainty clear within them.

Bakura took advantage of Yami's inability to speak. Reaching out he turned off the stove, pulled the ladle out of Yami's hand and tossed it onto the counter before stepping around, his hands rested on either side of Yami against the stove keeping Yami in place but not forcefully. Yami went stiff, body rigid and pressed firmly back against the stove keeping a mere inch between them. He could feel the young man's warm breath drift across his cheek, inhaling and exhaling stiffly. Unclenching his apparently locked jaw Bakura ground out. "Glad you could finally look at me today." Yami swallowed hard, hands clenching into fists against his side, his gaze unwavering. "Now that I've finally got your attention, repulsed and unwilling or otherwise, I've got a question for you. If what I did…we did…last night, sickened you so badly, then why did you respond?"

Without the sting against his skin Yami felt as if he had been back handed across the face. Holding back the tremor that was threatening to come out he said through clenched teeth, "You tell me."

Breathing ragged Bakura snarled, "I don't know, If I did I would not be asking."

"Really, if you didn't know then why would you make a statement about how I supposedly am feeling. Being so blunt doesn't exactly show that you don't think you know," Yami retorted.

"I'm just reacting to your lovely behaviour of today," Bakura said sardonically, a wry angered smile crossing his lips.

"Then tell me, Bakura, what you think it is that I am feeling. Let's see if you are even remotely right."

Through clenched teeth, Bakura ground out, mind no longer in control of the words leaving his lips. "Maybe I read you wrong. You're not attracted to me at all, whether because I am not your type or you're straight. Either way, you clearly want nothing to do with me." Emotions welling within him he turned away, not seeing the hurt in Yami's eyes. "Just my luck. Finally fall for someone and they don't feel the same way. This is why I never wanted a relationship."

Throat dry Yami watched Bakura storm away, feet pounding down the basement stairs after fervently slamming the door. Shaking he stared at the closed door he could feel the vibrations beneath his feet of Bakura pounding the punching bag, the sound almost deafening in his sensitive ears. Biting his lip he closed his eyes, fists clenching the handle to the oven hard enough that his knuckles were white. This was not what he wanted. He had spent almost the entire day mulling over what to do, what to say, what he wanted. He knew exactly what he wanted to do, but the lingering fear of the shadow lurking around in the corners of his life were hindering him. Stopping him in his tracks from having what he wanted, no, what he desperately needed and had been denying himself of ever having.

"Dammit," he cursed quietly, voice raw and quiet from his emotions. He was letting Alphonse win. To dominate his thoughts and overwhelm him with fear so binding the felt trapped, surrounded by a burning inferno of black flames. Snapping his eyes open again he stared at the door. Eyes filling with hot tears he felt himself moving, crossing the distance to the stairs and opening the door, mind spiralling he followed his impulses. Descending into the basement he let his body lead him. He'd be damned if he let that sadistic prick deprive him of the one thing he wanted most. Crushing the fear as best he could he crossed the basement floor.

Bakura noticed him, swivelled to him, stone cold mask blocking the emotions Yami knew were blazing within him. Throwing reason and fear out the window Yami reached out and took hold of Bakura's now bruised hands, grasp tightening when the detective growled and fruitlessly tried to pull away. Russet eyes stared at him, the hope leaking through the cold blockade. Voice still raw Yami rasped, barely suppressing the tears from falling. "You were wrong, Bakura, very wrong. I know that you know the truth, so I won't bother assuring you with words. But I will assure you in another way."

Opening his mouth to protest, his stubbornness and anger over shadowing the words spoken, was silenced when Yami tentatively pressed his lips against his. Instantly the feeling of blissful euphoria from last night returned and washed over him, purifying and calming the darker thoughts in his mind. Eyes slipping shut he let his mind go and revelled in the sensations. Yami's grip on his hands was relinquished, quivering digits slithered up over his chest to rest on his collarbone. Instinctively, Bakura drifted his own hands across Yami's hips and up along his spine, one resting there while the other continued up till he could run his fingers through the hair on the nape of Yami's neck. Gently Bakura steered Yami around till the EMT's back hit the wall. The only thing breaking the kiss was the small gasp the action emitted from Yami. Taking advantage of that Bakura deepened the kiss, knees almost giving out at the small noises Yami made in pleasure from the contact.

Gasping for breath they pulled apart, Bakura resting his forehead against Yami's so their eyes connected, crimson bearing deep into russet orbs. "Are you sure?" he asked quietly, not entirely trusting his voice. "He's still out there."

Trembling Yami nodded, a single tear running down his cheek. A small release. "I can't let him win. I can't...I can't let him make me fear having what I want, what I need. I can't let him control me like this, I'll go insane," he choked out, a single finger tracing Bakura's jaw. "I'm sorry..."

Placing a finger over Yami's lips Bakura smiled, "Don't you dare...I don't want to hear it. I'm just glad for this..." he murmured, chastely kissing him before glancing at the stairs. "Now, I'm starving, can we eat?"

Laughing Yami shook his head, "You're a damn glutton."

"Food? Please?" he grinned.

A/N: sorry again that this took so long...I just broke through one hell of a writer's block. Hope this was worth the wait ^^


	14. Chapter 14

SILHOUETTE

_**A/N:**__ Thanks to EgyptianSoul.88, Cherry, Aurineko, for reviewing, you guys are awesome. And to those that have been favouriting this story and me, makes me proud to be writing. _

_I can say with ease that the reason why this chapter took so long was bad luck and fucking work. I kept losing sections of the story, which for me usually throws me into a rather nasty writers block. Otherwise, when I was in the mood to write and had all the lovely ideas and images in my head…I was at work…So, sorry for this taking so long, but hopefully this will be a good belated Christmas and New Years present for all of you ^^_

_I don't own Yugioh…I wish, lol, but I don't. _

**CHAPTER FOURTEEN**

_**01:34**_

_**January 19**__**th**__**, City of Calgary, Deerfoot Trail. **_

"Fucking snow," Soren cursed from the passenger seat. Craig was in the driver's seat, jaw clenched as he concentrated on the icy road –and not swearing at all the incompetent drivers – blue and red lights reflecting back at them from the windshields of the cars parked along the side of the road.

The sudden white out had caused massive panic for the drivers heading home from work. Their panic was the reason they were driving through the narrow area in the middle of the road with lights and sirens going. They were heading home, their shift already four hours into overtime, when they received the dispatch. Twisting in his seat Soren peered back at Yami, whom was clutching at the handle beside his head, his body ridiculously clam. "How you doing back there birthday boy?"

With a smirk Yami answered, "The sugar high from the cake is gone, so just peachy."

All their directed their attention to the radio as a voice blared through it, "_CPS unit 1202 to EMS 1101, what's your ETA, over."_

Grabbing the radio Soren spoke into it, "Less than five, just passing the Stony Trail Exit. I can see your lights through the snow, over."

"_Roger, 1202 over and out."_

"Put your coats on you two. Yami, get the bag ready along with an extra blanket. Fire is right behind us, we need to help secure the patients and keep them warm, do as good of an assessment of them as we can. The CPS and the RCMP officers on scene are doing traffic control. I'll dispatch for back up when we get there. He we go kiddies," Craig barked, pulling up to the crash scene and parking where the officer flagged him to. As he pulled on the park break and his own luminous green jacket Yami and Soren exited the ambulance.

The cold win hit Yami hard, knocking the warm air out of his lungs and forcing him to inhale the freezing snow filled air. Shivering to get warm, Yami scanned the accident scene through the waves of snow. The van was in the middle of the road blocking both lanes of northbound traffic. Its front end was completely caved in, the windshield partially shattered and allowing the snow to hit the occupants within. In the ditch flipped on its hood was a barely recognizable car. One of the RCMP officers from Airdrie was monitoring a man prone in the ditch. On closer inspection Yami cringed, the man had clearly been ejected from the car, his head nearly detached and crushed beyond recognition. Shaking his head at the loss he gathered his gear from the back of the rig.

Blanket under his one arm and medical bag slung over his other shoulder and oxygen tank in his hands Yami trudged through the snow towards the van, Soren dashing pas him to gather more blankets and ready the stretcher. One of the police officers approached him, "The two kids from the back of the van are in our car; both parents are trapped in the front seats. The driver of the car is dead, and the passenger doesn't look good."

Peering through the whirling snow Yami scowled. The other RCMP officer was with the victim trapped in the flipped car, his was nearly waist deep through the shattered passenger window. "Get that officer away from that car, please. We can't approach it never mind be climbing inside until the firefighters get here," he said, voice authoritative but polite. The officer gave a nod, seemingly happy that someone finally voiced it, and went to approach the RCMP officer in the ditch. Seeing Soren come up beside him he pointed at the parked Calgary police car. "The kids from the van are in there, why don't you check them, Craig and I will assess the parents and the patient in the car."

"Sounds good to me," Soren responded, tremors clean in his voice. "It's warm there."

"Chicken shit."

"Hey, I may have been born in Alberta, doesn't mean I have to be used to, or like, the fucking weather," he grumbled, walking towards the police car.

A small smile crossed Yami's face. Shaking his head a bit he strode towards the van. Through his peripheral vision he could see the RCMP officer that had been in the over turned car, trudging towards him in a huff. Yami had to resist rolling his eyes, deciding to ignore the ignorant cop while he checked the victims. Craig was right behind him, a toque covering his bald head while his ginger goatee was already filled with snow. Reaching the van's passenger side, Yami placed the bag and oxygen tank on the ground he began to unfold the blanket. The mother stared at him blearily through the blood that bad pooled and hardened in her one eye from the abrasion on her temple.

"Check my kids first…" she slurred at him.

Gently, and without putting any more than his hands into the vehicle, Yami laid the blanket across her. "Don't worry Ma'am; one of my partners is checking them right now. I have to worry about helping you alright?" A nod. "My name is Yami, what's yours Ma'am?"

"Eliza," she stammered, shivering excessively.

Seeing that the air bags had already been deployed and deflated Yami deemed it safe to lean into the vehicle. The RCMP officer was standing beside him, arms crossed in irritation. Yami gave no inclination of noticing him; instead he ran through as much of the primary assessment as he could and called across to Craig, whom was assessing the father. "She's A+Ox2, breathings twelve per minute, pulse is sixty and regular and her pupils are not reactive to light but are equal and round."

Craig nodded his head while taking off his stethoscope, "Get some oxygen going on her, then go check on the patient in the car. I'll meet you over there once I get an assessment from Soren on the little girls."

"Roger that," Yami murmured, already donning a Non-Rebreather mask over the woman's face. Turning on the oxygen tank he nestled it on the ground. "Now, Eliza, I need you to breathe this in and relax. We will have you and your husband out of here as soon as the fire department arrives. Just tell us if you get any colder and need another blanket, alright?"

"OK."

Turning Yami reached down to retrieve the medical bag, the instant he straightened up the RCMP officer was in his face. "So, why are you allowed to lean in when I'm not, eh tough guy?"

Unable to hold back an exasperated sigh Yami moved around him, "Because unlike that car, the van is stabilized, and I did not have almost my entire body in there. None of us are allowed to get inside that vehicle until the firefighters deem it safe."

"Look buddy," the officer growled, following Yami to the car. "It's been a long night so I don't need some pompous jerk like you telling me how to do my job. I've been up for the last ten hours, you have no idea how fucking tired I am!"

Rounding on him Yami glared icily at him, "This is my sixteenth hour of working, and by the look of it I'm going to be here for several more hours. If asked for you to be politely removed from that car because if that car tipped and fell over, or if the air bags went off, or something exploded, the we would have one more patient to deal with instead of the already large handful that we do. As it stands EMS backup won't be here for another twenty minutes. So, if something went wrong, you could have not only added to our work load, but had yourself killed. It's an unnecessary risk that we are all trained to avoid. So, I don't know, but I'd say that playing it safe and not asking to sign your death certificate sounds pretty logical don't you. And watch your professionalism, there are kids on scene and swearing and calling me 'buddy' isn't exactly setting a good example." With that he stormed away, leaving the RCMP standing there with his mouth agape.

Kneeling down in the snow Yami pulled out the flashlight from his jacket pocket and peered into the vehicle. He swallowed hard. She was gurgling; blood, pink and frothy, was at the corner of her lips. She was lying in the roof of the car at an odd angle, her head close to the window. Peering around Yami noted that the airbags had not gone off and that the seatbelts were both broken, one of them hanging in front of his face. She was unconscious, and scantily clad in a tank top and jeans, her jacket was lodge in the backseat. Applying new gloves he laid flat on his stomach and reached his hand in checking her breathing and pulse. He heard the snow crunch and looked back to see Craig squatting beside him, "Pulse is forty and irregular, respiratory rate is six. She's critical, I think she has a hemopneumothorax, probably some head trauma, she's frothing at the mouth so her airway isn't clear."

Nodding as he absorbed the information Craig stated, "She's first priority, stay with her and try and get an NRB on her as best as you can. If not, at least monitor her and call me over if she changes. Soren said the kids are fine, just a little shaken; they were both in their car seats. The Father is the same as the wife, but his chest felt off on brief palpation, so he'll be after this young lady, then the wife. Agreed?"

"Yeah," Yami consented.

Siren's cut through the whirling sound of the blizzard and the noise around them. Glancing up the two of them watched as one of the CPS officers directed a fire truck to a safe parking spot. Craig patted Yami's shoulder, "Take care of her, I'll go help the guys unload."

Giving a small nod Yami opened his bag and fished out the gear he needed. He was already soaked from lying in the snow; his hands surprisingly were still while the rest of his body was shivering. Turning on the oxygen tank he sealed the non-rebreather mask over her face as best he could, using his free hand to re-check her vitals. Biting his lip he fought back a wave of exhaustion, sighing deeply before forcing his vision to straighten again. He was not going to admit to his partners that he was past the point of exhaustion and over exertion, his chest and stomach were raging at him in protest.

This was going to be a long night.

**=Four hours Later=**

Through the delirium of sleep Bakura could hear his cell phone ringing. Groaning in annoyance he rolled over, unconsciously plopping a pillow over his exposed ear. The ringing persisted, and the sudden sensation of a cold nose against his face forced him blearily into a partial stage of alertness. Blinking he glared at Reno whom was staring at him impatiently, obviously annoyed with the ringing that disturbed his own slumber. Groaning he looked at the clock, it was nearly seven am. Clearing his throat he reached for his phone and flipped it open, "Hello?"

"_Sorry to wake you Kura'_," came Yami's slurred and clearly exhausted voice. He was quiet enough that Bakura had to strain to hear him. "_I can't drive, I'm too incoherent; can you or Mike come and get me from the station_?"

Yawning the detective clambered with absolutely no coordination out of bed, using Reno as a guide to his closet. "I'll come get you, Mike's already left for his meeting. I need to get up now anyway….wait, you're still at work? You're just getting off now? It's been almost twenty hours!"

"_There was a white out last night from the blizzard. It caused a lot of accidents and other related injuries. It was too busy for us to leave until now_."

"Nice," he grumbled while haphazardly pulling on some jeans. I'm coming, I just have to get dressed and I'll be out the door."

"_Alright, thanks_."

Hearing the line go dead Bakura shoved his phone in his pocket. Yanking on a sweater, after putting it on backwards the first time, he strode to the front door. Slipping into his boots and grabbing his keys and jacket he was out the door faster than he believed he was capable. The cold was a good wake up call. The blizzard that had blown through last night was not done. Blistering winds still swept across the landscape, smoothening the massive snow drifts around. Bakura was silently thankful to see that their street had been ploughed already, all he had to do was dig out the red truck from its small drift and four by four it out. He was still getting used to this thing. Yami had transferred the remainder of the lease over to him and he returned the SUV he was leasing.

The drive over to the station was uneventful, aside from shaking his head at idiotic drivers, especially the ones trapped in the ditch. Pulling into the station he saw Yami waiting by the door waving Abby and Soren whom were walking away to their vehicle. Coming to a stop he reached across and popped the passenger door open. A small smile greeted Yami as the young EMT hefted himself up into the truck, clumsily dropping his bag into the back seat and fumbling to click his seat belt on. Yami barely returned the smile before he slumped back and closed his eyes. Seeing the dark circles under Yami's eyes and the paleness of his skin, Bakura held back a concerned scowl, "When was the last time you ate?"

"Um…round nine last night, unless you want to count the rushed piece of cake I had at midnight," Yami slurred.

"Do you think you can stay awake long enough to eat something?" Bakura asked as he drove away, seeing Yami vaguely shake his head he sighed. "Alright, straight to bed with you. I'll wake you up around noon so you can eat and wake up a bit before I drive you to your shift. You work at three right?"

"Two, two pm to two am. Hopefully it's not like last night was."

"Yeah. You've been run ragged all week. Today's your last shift this rotation right?" A groggy nod was his answer. "Good. You can spend the next three days of your four off resting. How's your body holding up?"

"Sore, just tired otherwise. Gunna take a while to get back into gear with work."

Yami's blatant honesty about how he was feeling was Bakura's true indicator as to how exhausted he was. "You're taking it easy right?"

"Mhm."

"Is your car going to be secure here?"

"Mhm, video surveillance and you have to have EMS ID scan tags to get in."

Arriving home Bakura silently took Yami's bag and carried it inside, ignoring the glare he received. Yami somnolently followed him into the house. The EMT didn't say anything, he simply took off his shoes and jacket, trudged to his room, stripped, climbed into bed and fell asleep. Bakura could hear his even breathing before he was even able to start making coffee. Sighing he held back a partial scowl, Yami hadn't even greeted Reno. The dog had followed him and was lying on Yami's bed snuggled up to him. Five hours of sleep was not going to be enough for Yami to recuperate with, he was going to be a zombie.

The sudden ring of his cell phone pulled him out of his thoughts. Glancing at the call display he frowned, even on his days off he could not get away from work. Flipping open his phone he grumbled, "Detective Bakura."

"Hello detective, it Dr. Grant from forensics. We finished processing the note found on Alicia Caine's body. We will fax the results to you or the office."

"My home fax please. I'm off today, I won't be going into the office," he stated while pouring water into the coffee maker.

"Will do, it will be sent in the next hour or so. Good bye detective."

"Thanks, bye," clicking the phone closed he went about finishing making coffee. He'd be damned if he was doing anything work related today. Besides, he planned on having a relaxing lunch with Yami and giving him his present before the EMT dashed off to work. It was the only semblance of calm he knew he was going to be able to give Yami for today. He wasn't going to let work interfere with it.

He spent the rest of the morning puttering around the house, doing the odd bit of cleaning, but mostly he just read the paper and watched television, trying his best to remain quiet. Mike returned at one point from his meeting, waving at him in greeting before adjourning to doing laundry, packing and doing some work on the computer.

Absently watching the sport highlights, Bakura stretched and glanced back at the clock in the kitchen. It was almost noon. Standing up he made his way into the kitchen, spotting Mike walking towards him with a piece of paper in his hands he stopped. With clear annoyance Mike shoved the paper at Bakura, "Damn thing screwed up the fax I was trying to send. Is lunch going to be ready soon?"

Giving his uncle a half enthused glare, Bakura peered down at the paper in his hand. Brow furrowing in confusion he glanced up at Mike, "Do you know what this is?"

Mike glanced at the piece of paper, "What's at the address you mean? It's an old condemned building. I think it used to be a meat plant or something. It's scheduled to be torn down soon, Heritage Park wants the land. Why?"

Frowning in consternation Bakura placed the paper on the counter, "It was a note found on the body of Alphonse's wife. Why the hell would she have this address?"

Shrugging Mike opened the fridge, "You're the detective kiddo, not me. I'm starving."

Staring at him incredulously Bakura brushed him and rummaged around in the fridge, "Lunch will be ready in twenty minutes. Now, get out of the damn kitchen so I can cook, and back away from the cake!" He growled, swatting Mike's hand away from the small cake on the bottom rack.

"What are you two bickering about now," rasped a voice, startling the two and forcing them to look up at a drowsy Yami, whom was staring at them incredulously.

"What are you doing up?" Mike questioned.

"Hungry," was the single answer they got, Yami's raw voice barely audible. "Reno stole the covers."

Stifling laughter Bakura gently directed Yami to sit in one of the bar stools around the island. Yami instantly relaxed and slumped against the counter, giving a small groan when Bakura kissed his shoulder. "I'm making lunch, kick back and relax birthday boy."

"Planned on it, too tired to cook without burning something," Yami mumbled.

Throwing a pot on the stove and opening several cans of soup Bakura chuckled, "I don't think you know how to burn food."

"Let's not test that theory, the house finally smells normal again after your little escapade the other day trying to cook supper," Mike teased, gaining a tired chuckle from Yami and a glare from his nephew.

Lunch and cake was eaten with small pleasant conversation and unhurried. But as soon as the dishes were cleared, cleaned and in the dishwasher Yami bolted for the bathroom to get ready. Bakura had turned his back for a moment to grab the gift only for Yami to disappear and the water for the shower telling him where he went. He knew Yami's whirlwind routine well enough to know that giving him his gift now was not going to happen. He placed it by the front door so he would grab it on their way out and give it to him in the vehicle. Collapsing onto the couch he changed the channel to the news, letting it distract him while Yami got ready.

"_...and in weather, blowing snow, high of minus thirty and low of minus forty four. The conditions make driving risky, there are a record number of single and multi vehicle accidents; lanes closed on Deerfoot Trail southbound at Memorial Drive, Glenmore Trail westbound at Macleod Trail, and at Crowchild just south of the Bow Trail interchange. Police and emergency services are responding as quickly as possible to clear these obstructions."_

Bakura sighed, and flicked off the television. He knew that his young friend, already exhausted, would be on the receiving end of another long shift. A shuffling of feet behind him signalled that Yami was ready to go. He looked haggard in his blue uniform, but ready to go.

"Timmys?" Bakura asked, donning his winter gear and heading toward the garage.

Yami just nodded and followed, his face showing no comprehension. He had only had a few hours sleep, it would take at least two double double's to get him back into working condition, if not more.

The roads were slick with ice and the winds were high-pitched and screaming. Bakura was focused on the roads, while Yami sat in the passenger seat, his first of many coffees perched steaming between his knees when he wasn't lazily sipping at it. With Timmy's included the drive was nearly an hour long through traffic, they were silent through it all both content in each other's presence and enjoying the quietly playing radio.

Flicking on his signal light Bakura turned onto the next street, a small smile crossing his features when he felt Yami's warm hand in his begin to absently caress his wrist. Subtly glancing over without completely loosing focus on the road he peered at Yami, whom was focusing forward on the road drinking back the remnants of his first of two coffees. It had taken a good ten minutes for Yami to relax, his fingers finally losing their tenseness and returning the grip. The young man was still not used to the small affectionate gestures Bakura did; he never had a negative reaction, just was usually startled and would be a bit tense before relaxing. It was almost cute in Bakura's eyes how innocent and naive Yami was in terms of relationships. It was a learning curb that he was enjoying.

"So, are you going to need me to come pick you up after?"

Yami shrugged, "We will have to see. If it is busy, and I am late, I will let you know. Otherwise, I should probably try and get myself home."

Bakura nodded, using the palm of his free hand to turn the wheel into the parking lot. Pulling into a parking stall he shoved the truck into park and reluctantly relinquished his hold on Yami's hand. "Before you go...here," he reached into the back seat and thrust a small package into Yami's hand, a small blush crossing his cheeks.

The former looked at the package with a quizzical eye and then at his friend, "A Swiss army knife?"

"Yea, I thought it might come in useful, I am sure that there are a hundred and one times you wish you had something like this around on the job," Bakura said, rambling in his nervousness. He was still unsure as to what Yami's reaction was, as the younger man's face was blank.

"Well, yes, I suppose." Yami turned the package over in his hands, "Now, if only I had one already, to help me open the damned package," he mused, before looking back to the detective. "Thank you, Bakura. It is perfect," he smiled.

Bakura beamed, "So, you'll call me if you need a ride, right?"

"Of course," Yami smiled, what he did next stunned Bakura into silence. He kissed him, not just the small chaste ones they had been doing lately, but deeper. The fact that Yami initiated it had him almost swooning, never mind the overwhelming euphoric sensations that barraged him. He trembled and stared at a grinning Yami as the young man broke the kiss and exited the truck. Blushing, Bakura resorted to a simple wave before driving off, absently licking the remnants of the taste of Yami's lips from his own.

Dashing in from the cold winds Yami kicked his boots against the floor sprinkling snow over the rug. Pulling out his ID he scanned it at the door, hearing a beep and a small click he pulled open the now unlocked door and trudged in.

Briefly smiling at one of the receptionists that looked up and waved at him, Yami continued on through the building to the locker room. Reaching his locker he chucked his jacket, change of clothes and spare boots into it. Wrenching out his fluorescent work jacket he draped it over his arm before closing and locking his locker. He could hear his coworkers in the nearby lounge room, he smiled to himself while listening to their bantering; they were playing a rather loud game of scrabble, a somewhat perverted one too. Shaking his head he adjusted the strap of his bag and head into the garage bay.

It was cold in the garage, small gusts of bitter wind filtered in underneath the large doors. He could see the traffic beyond though the plexi-glass windows in the doors, cars passed by slowly to adjust to the weather. Opening the back of the ambulance he was going to be in he placed his bag and jacket in a small storage spot in the back behind the seats. Checking his watch he scowled, he was fairly early, it would be a good twenty more minutes before Soren showed up and they left the building. Even Craig, whom was generally there the same time he was, wouldn't be here for at least ten minutes. Sighing he shrugged and went about checking the rig making sure that they had not missed anything last night in their somnolence.

Craig and Soren arrived around the same time, both barely coherent. After sorting out who was driving, who was in the passenger seat, who was stuck in the back and where they were getting coffee from, they all clambered into the rig and exited the building. They were first on patrol for the afternoon shifts until the next set came in at six. Craig grumbled about that all the way to the nearby Starbucks, ranting that the more rested bastards playing scrabble should be out patrolling while they rested at the dispatch building. All the response he was getting from Yami and Soren through it was smiles and small bouts of laughter.

"Should make them play poker," Craig grunted in the passenger seat as Yami turned the vehicle back on, hot steaming coffee in his hands. "Kick their asses and have it so the winner can sleep at the hall and the damn losers can be out on patrol."

"And what makes you so sure you'll win," snorted Soren, an incredulous grin on his face.

"I'll play dirty."

Chuckling Yami turned onto a different street, garnet eyes peeking at Craig in his peripheral vision. Seeing the construction ahead he slowed down. Absently he peered at the crane ahead of them as it lifted an iron girder high above the ground to the new apartment complex that was being built. "Can't win any other way huh?" he quipped.

"Can so," Craig argued, pulling out Yami's coffee from the drink holder and tapping the young man's arm with it. Seeing Yami take it he continued. "Just not when I'm tired and when losing is not an option will I cheat."

"Bullshit, I call bullshit. Yami, remind me never to play any sort of high stakes game with this man," Soren laughed.

Yami flashed at grin back at his friend, "You'd get your ass handed to you anyway Soren even if he wasn't cheating," he laughed. Coming to a stop as one of the construction workers in the road turned the stop sign to him he twisted back and tried hard not to laugh at Soren's pouting face. "You suck at winning any kind of game."

"I beat all of you at UNO once!" Soren protested defensively.

"Only because..."

Sudden waves of vibration rumbled through the vehicle stunned the group into silence. Yanking up the park break Yami peered out the windshield, mouth dropping agape as he did so, Soren and Craig stared on in the same state of shock.

Slowly, almost as if strings were attached to it and the puppeteer was tired, the reason for the vibration swung into view. An echoing screeching sound, like metal snapping and clanging together rang out as the crane and the metal beam it had been lifting teetered then careened towards the road and nearby buildings. The cable snapped, dropping the metal beam onto the street directly onto several vehicles and the workers scrambling away. Loud screaming echoed around as the onlookers and those already in peril, watched the scene unfold.

In a split second the three men barreled out of the rig, not even bothering to close the doors they ran across the street. Soren was first; opening the door of the apartment building closest to them he let Yami and Craig through before following. Other people raced in behind them, desperately trying to avoid the falling cranes path. Pressed against one of the lobby windows Yami watched as the crane crashed through a nearby office building, collapsing the middle and leaving a gaping crevice. The sound rang in his ears much like thunder in pure silence. Crimson eyes stared on as both sides of the building caved in around the fallen crane; bright red flames erupted from the centre and engulfed the fallen structure. The delayed concussions sent everyone to their knees, glass from the surrounding buildings shattered, raining glass down on the few that had been able to avoid the worst of the damage. The top of the crane continued to plummeted to the road. Harsh squealing then the crunch of metal resounded through the air as an oncoming LRT train down the street saw the falling crane and tried to grind to a halt. Broken electrical wires and pluming smoke signaled that the train had been crushed.

Coughing from his position on the ground Yami peered around him, mind reeling in shock as his body processed what was transpiring. Limbs shaking excessively he levered himself up enough to look out the window, barely feeling the broken glass cutting into his hands from the window sill or the small cuts littered across his face from when the window shattered. The smell of smoke and gas wafted over him causing him to cough more, the intense inferno from the fire forced him to squint as he took in the damage.

The collapsed building was completely encompassed by roaring flames, plumes of thick black smoke stretched towards the grey sky. Both buildings on either side of it were already on fire, the flames lashing out and decimating everything in its path. Screams were barely heard over the crackling and roaring flames, along with the barely audible sirens approaching the scene. All the sounds were distant to him, as if he was wearing a thick pair of headphones to block it out. The blast must have popped his ears, leaving him partially deaf in both ears until they corrected themselves.

Feeling a hand on his back Yami glanced up to see Soren standing beside him. Soren's face was riddle with small cuts, all angry and red, some lightly bleeding. Yami knew his was just as bad, having been this close to the window they were barely able to protect themselves from the glass as the other people in the small lobby area screamed and ran for the far wall. "You should go contact dispatch, see if the rig is accessible," he murmured, almost choking on the thickness of the smoke that was filtering through.

"We need to evacuate all those that can move to a safe distance," Craig agreed from behind them, his voice sounding like it was coming from far away, brushing off glass from his shoulder. "Try and see if you can get to the rig, if it's too hot don't bother. Yami and I will start directing people out of here and to safety. Hopefully that's the police or fire that's here so we can start doing triage."

"Sir? Sir what do we do..." pleaded a man standing behind them, clutching his screaming son to his chest. "Where do we go?"

Glancing at Soren, Craig pointed out the door, "Go Soren, we don't have time to waste. Yami, get up and help me start evacuating. Time for you both to learn the hard way how to run an MCI until the big bosses take over," he said shoving Soren towards the door with one hand and pulling Yami up by the arm with the other.

Shoving - gently and scoffing at himself immediately after- the destroyed door open Soren dashed out into the street. The sound of the flames was deafening, and the heat from the flames was drying and warmly caressing his skin in a stifling manner. Reaching the rig he carefully opened the door, avoiding the glass he leaned inside and unclasped the radio from its holder in the centre console. Clicking the side he yelled into it, turning to watch as Yami and Craig directed people out of the apartment building. "This is unit 1101. We are on Centre Street and Sixth Avenue; a crane just fell over into a neighboring building and onto an LRT train. I repeat, a crane just fell into another building and caused an explosion. I need back up of all police, fire and EMS available and for the MCI emergency response team to be contacted. Over!"

Hearing only static he cursed and chucked the radio back into the ambulance. Seeing red and blue lights through the growing amount of smoke he watched as two police cars pulled up down the street.

"Soren, get your ass away from there, the heat is going to melt the damn engine!" Yami yelled, waving his friend over. "It's not safe there, come on." Without hesitating Soren ran over barely blinking before Yami shoved a little girl into his arms. "Carry her, she's too shocked and scared to walk," he then turned and picked up another small child, and gently directed a woman down the street, his dark gaze beckoning Soren to follow as he coaxed the woman to continue forward.

Coughing from the smoke Yami adjusted his hold on the little girl in his arms, his other hand still on the mother of the two girls shoulder encouraging her trembling form towards the police cars. Craig had already directed most of the people that could walk down the street behind the police vehicles. He was waving at the few stumbling people in front of Yami towards his location. The four police officers had divided their attentions between the people already behind their cars and the few that were left to reach there. One rushed up to Soren, "Are you two alright?"

Yami squinted, barely hearing what he had said, "Pardon?"

The officer frowned in concern, "Are you alright?"

Catching it that time both Yami and Soren nodded, "Ears popped, it'll take them a bit to get back to normal but otherwise we are fine," Yami answered.

"Good, here let me help you," the officer said, stepping beside the woman Yami was guiding. Encouraging Yami to move his hand away politely he directed the young woman the rest of the way, glancing back at the destruction behind him his eyes portraying his shock and dismay.

Placing the little girl on the ground Yami made sure that she went to her mother. Feeling dizzy he turned away and leaned against the car, gaze focusing on the fire down the street. He could faintly hear its roaring, along with the screaming and desperate yelling from people throughout the accident scene. The smoke was thick, pillowing up high beyond his vision range and almost dominating the windy sky. Now that he was resting he could feel how tight his chest was, the smoke was agitating his asthma and the still fragile condition his lungs were in. Pulling up his shirt he covered his mouth and nose with it in an attempt to filter the air. The sensation of eyes on his made him peer around; Craig was in front of him his eyes filled with concern. "Do I need to find some oxygen for you?"

Shaking his head Yami murmured, "I'll be fine, just need some water."

Craig glanced around quickly, clicking open the car door he reached in and snatched one of the officers water bottles and chucked it at Yami. Nimbly catching it Yami pulled his shirt away and chugged back half the bottle before using the other bit to dampen his shirt, sparing some he passed it to Craig while pulling the now wet shirt collar over his face again. Patting Yami's shoulder Craig turned to watch the flames, "This is going to be a long day."

Nodding in agreement Yami heaved a long sigh, "Triage?"

Averting back Craig nodded, "Yeah, let's start with the people here, hopefully the fire department and back up EMS gets here soon. Get one of the police officers to take you to the other side, there's more people there that need tending to with no one there yet. Start triage there. Does your radio still work?" A nod. "Good, keep in contact, give me an update as often as you can. Direct everything over there. Soren and I will handle this side."

"Alright," Yami responded.

Within a minute Yami was in the passenger side of the police car, lights and sirens going as they sped around to the other side of the accident. It was the same officer that had ran up to them, his hands were trembling but the rest of him seemed calm. He was doing well, Yami was surprised that he was as calm as he was as well, especially when the other half of the scene swung into view. The crane had crashed through the middle of an LRT train, smoke and sparks were escaping from the tracks below and the wire above that the train had been connected to. Beyond that just across the street the top of the crane had landed in a small parking lot, several cars were crushed beneath it, their alarms ringing loudly.

Feeling the car park at a safe distance Yami numbly climbed out, his senses and instincts driving him. There was a lot of work to do, he could not let his emotions run him, nor his spinning mind. Taking a deep breath he glanced over at the officer, "Do you know any first aid Keenan?"

"A little."

"EMS back up and Fire isn't here yet, we are on our own. Can you help me with triage, only what you are comfortable with." Receiving a firm nod Yami headed towards the LRT train. "Let's go."

A/N: Hope this was alright, its short, I know, but trust me the rest of the story will be fairly fast paced if that is any comfort to any of you. R and R please :D


	15. Chapter 15

SILHOUETTE

_**A/N:**__ Thanks to Sparkey (for last chapter, especially for giving me the small kick in the ass I needed to finish it), Aurineko, EgyptianSoul.88(Imagine that the apartment complex from last chapter was the new Bow building, that's the area I was picturing), kiki222 and sakuraXdrop, you guys are all amazing and great confidence boosters. _

_And sorry everyone for my notorious habit of leaving type-o's…even if I read through the damn thing a few times I still seem to miss a few. _

_As it stands for this story, just so you are all aware….I have thrown all the previous planning I had for the rest of this novel out the window and am currently going with my gut. That is how the last three chapters have basically been, I have a basic idea of the sequence of events and am just going to be filling in the blanks. This is how I used to write…before stories like Crimson Trust, Innocent Dark and the novel I have been aimlessly writing….so hopefully it works *crosses fingers* Please Enjoy the chapter and tell me what you think, you guys are all awesome!_

**CHAPTER FIFTEEN**

"_Firefighters are still working on controlling the multiple fires that have broken out throughout the area of the crash. So far the fire has ceased to spread to other buildings since this afternoon, but the firefighters believe it may take all night or longer to completely put out the blaze. EMS crews have been working tirelessly all night treating those injured by this tragic event. So far, via the report EMS Director Bruce Hob gave us earlier, the death count has risen to fifty-one. We are asking for the aid of any off duty doctors or medical personal to help us through this crisis…"_

Tapping his finger restlessly on the edge of the tattered sofa he peered at the screen intently. Such carnage, beautiful sweet agony. Even if he had not been the cause of it, it drew him in like a moth to a flame. Licking his lips he absently continued to rotate the scalpel in his one hand, the light from the TV reflecting off of in to illuminate his bright eerie eyes. He grinned, pressing the flat of the blade against his lips relishing in the cold of the metal and the shiver it caused. Standing up he flicked off the TV and headed out, grabbing his thick jacket as he went. Even if he was not the cause, even if he could do nothing to fully satisfy his wish to hear someone scream by his hands, he wanted to see it and touch it.

Stopping he peered through his peripheral vision as his reflection in the mirror he had glued to the wall by small self made sink. He absorbed his own appearance with pure narcissism. He had changed in the last month, more muscular, clean shaven and his hair dyed dark to cover all the grey that had seeped through over the years. In the mirror he saw himself how he looked when he was thirty. Young and supple, far different than the appearance he had kept since his precious Devon had passed on. He was no longer recognizable to the public, he had strode around in broad daylight and stared at the pictures of his face posted in random areas, resisting laughter when people had walked up to him and stated their feelings about the person in the picture.

Slipping into his jacket he strode down a set of metal stairs to the exit. Grabbing the deadbolt lock from the centre of the series of crisscrossed chains he unlocked it and pulled off the chains. Letting them drop to the floor with an almost musical clang he opened the door and stepped out into the wicked cold beyond, gaze falling on the plume of smoke in the city sky line. "Time to play doctor," he chuckled.

* * *

Darkness blanketed the house; the only light cutting through the darkness came from the dimmed TV and the barely lit fireplace. It was silent for the most part, the only audible sounds was the snoring from one occupant of the house behind his closed bedroom door and the TV on low volume. With his feet propped up on the coffee table Mike quietly watched the news, vaguely stroking Reno's head which was resting in his lap. A nagging headache was brewing in the back of his head, realising that he was grinding his teeth he stopped and rubbed his jaw. Old nervous habit, something Bakura had unfortunately picked up on. Scowling he flicked the channel back to the news, he could not resist anymore. He had watched the broadcast earlier while Bakura had ran out to the grocery store, instantly flicking it off when his nephew got back. The young detective was completely oblivious as to what had transpired downtown earlier, too lost in his own thoughts to really pay attention to much.

"_Firefighters are still working on controlling the multiple fires that have broken out throughout the area of the crash. So far the fire has ceased to spread to other buildings since this afternoon, but the firefighters believe it may take all night or longer to completely put out the blaze. EMS crews have been working tirelessly all night treating those injured by this tragic event. So far, via the report EMS Director Bruce Hob gave us earlier, the death count has risen to fifty-one. We are asking for the aid of any off duty doctors or medical personal to help us through this crisis…"_

Glancing back at the clock Mike scowled, it was almost four am. Turning his gaze to the phone he willed it to ring, his worry was beginning to drive him crazy, he had not hear a thing from Yami yet and with the accident downtown he knew exactly where the young EMT was he hoped.

The phone suddenly rang shrilly, making him jump and stare in shock, "Maybe I should glare at you more often," he murmured, picking up the phone and putting it up to his ear. "Hello."

"_Mike? What are you still doing up?"_ said Yami's voice from the other end.

"Been waiting for your phone called, been randomly watching the news. Are you alright? Ready for a pick-up?"

Hearing a heavy sigh Mike felt his chest tighten, knowing he wasn't going to like what he was going to hear. "_We were the first responders; technically we were here while it happened. I'm ok, just a few cuts and bruises. I was calling to tell you not to wait up; I'm stuck here for a little while longer. Since we were the first on scene we started triage and that has basically been what I have been doing since. I was left in charge with running it for the people in the LRT and in the parking lot that was affected. I have to make sure that all my remaining patients are taken to the hospital before I can go, along with checking up on all the EMS, CPS and Firefighters that are here to make sure the smoke is not affecting them to badly. I'd say I'm going to be here till at least six if not later. I am getting a break soon to sleep; they want me to take a half hour nap in the back of one of the rigs. All I do know is that until all the patients are cleared out, I can't leave, I'm the most senior person on this side all the EMT-P's are on the other side of the crash dealing with the people being found in the fire."_

Brow furrowing Mike said bluntly, wanting a no bullshit response, "How are you holding up?"

There was a moment of silence on the other end, clear hesitation, before Yami answered, "_Barely, this is overwhelming and I'm exhausted_."

"Take care of yourself then. Call me the moment you are off and I will meet you at wherever you are. Alright?"

"_Alright, don't tell Bakura if he doesn't already know, I'll tell him in the morning_."

"Will do, he's been pretty oblivious all day, been sleeping since ten or so. Take care of yourself kiddo, I don't want to have to carry you home."

"_I'm a little big for that don't you think?"_

"Never. Be careful, alright? I'll see you in a few hours?"

"_Alright_."

The line went dead, leaving Mike feeling unsatisfied. His worry had not been reduced from that phone call. Something was nagging in the back of his mind, making him bite his lip in worry and stare down at the phone. A sense of foreboding overwhelmed him, this did not feel right. Sighing he glanced at the clock, the end of Yami's shift could not be done soon enough.

* * *

Shoving his cell phone into his pocket Yami released an exhausted sigh. Stretching his arms into the air he let out a quiet yawn, wincing when his shoulders and back popped audibly. Relaxing he inhaled deeply, brightly forgetting where he was till all he was inhaling was the harsh smoke still pillowing off the many fires still raging. Coughing he opened his eyes, the smoke and heat instantly drying his eyes. Scowling he turned and peered towards the taped off section that he had spent most of his time in for the most of the night, absently fiddling with the Swiss army knife in his pocket, taking a small comfort from it.

Police officers were standing around outside of the yellow tape, talking aimlessly to each other and directing vehicles when needed. His patients, a good twenty people, were sitting covered in blankets inside police cars, in the two parked ambulances, and on chairs that had been brought in. All of them had either the yellow tag, injured but not critical, or the green tag, walking wounded, and were being left in his care while they waited for hospital beds to be open or for the Olds and Didsbury hospitals to respond to tell them they had open beds. He had two EMT's helping him, if you could call it that. They were the definition of the word rookie. Both had been in his graduating class, and both were lacking confidence and skittish.

Seeing Keenan striding towards him he inclined his head in acknowledgement, before returning his gaze to the patients. Keenan moved up beside him, rubbing his hands together to get warm, "You should go nap now, we still haven't heard anything from the hospitals."

"Maybe," Yami murmured, crossing his arms in an attempt to keep warm. "They could call any minute though."

"I'll wake you the moment they do. Got a radio call saying one of your partners is coming over to help, they've got half as many casualties over there. Go nap; let your partner look after them. Apparently they have all rotated shifts over there to take brief sleep breaks to keep rested. It's your turn, go in the back of the free ambulance and have a half hour of vegetation, you've earned it man," Keenan insisted, draping an arm around Yami's should and gently urged him towards the vacant ambulance parked nearby. "Please Yami, you have been run ragged since we got here and are the only one that hasn't taken a break."

"No," Yami said firmly, crimson eyes locking with Keenan's. "I will wait till Soren's here. I have to give him and update and knowledge of the patients and I have a group of firefighters on their way over here to get checked as we speak. As soon as those tasks are done, or Soren takes over, I can't sleep. But, thank you regardless." A weak smile crossed his lips, assured that Keenan took no offence when he smiled as well and nodded his head.

"Alright, I won't push," he said, taking his arm off of Yami's shoulders and peering towards the fire. He could see the firefighters making their way over towards them from across the street, their forms barely visible through the smoke and lack of lights in the area. "Have you gotten checked out yourself yet?"

Shaking his head Yami sighed deeply, crossing his arms over his torso, "No, haven not had the time nor has there been anyone over here that I would trust enough to do a good job. When Soren gets over here I will probably let him."

Lights cascaded over them suddenly from behind, turning the two watched nonchalantly as one of the fire department vans pulled up in front of them. Stepping back they let the occupant within open the door and quietly watched Soren clamber out from the passenger side. He looked haggard, but alert, eyes bright aside from the dark circle underneath them. Smiling he closed the door to the van, "Hello my lovelies."

Quirking a brow Yami smirked, "You freak."

Laughing Keenan shook his head, "I take it that someone has fed you something good, was it'shrooms perhaps."

Shaking his head Soren grinned mischievously, a sight that relaxed Yami instantly, seeing his friend was still being his usual self through all the destruction. The Irish boy shifted over and draped an arm around Yami's shoulder, the three simultaneously beginning to head back over to the triage section. "Nah, just a little bit of highly strong, possibly combustible, liquid caffeine."

"Oh you're cruel;" Keenan melted, shoulders drooping, "What I wouldn't do right now for an energy drink or a cup of coffee."

Soren hoisted his empty cup in their direction, "My battery pack could use some charging too."

"Two of the paramedic units are coming back here in about an hour with said liquid joy and food," Soren stated, chucking at the relieved expressions on both Yami and Keenan's faces. "I figured that would perk you both up to hear." Becoming serious as they passed through into the triage zone Soren gently shoved Yami towards one of the open ambulances. "Time to check you over bucko, I doubt you've been checked since we got here." Seeing the guilty expression on Yami's face answered his question and he pushed down on his friend's shoulders to force him to sit on the back of the rig.

"Been too busy," was Yami's quiet retort.

Glaring up at Yami incredulously Soren slapped his shoulder, "Don't give me that bullshit. Let's clean and patch you up, then I'll check your SpO2 levels."

With no resistance Yami limply allowed Soren to quietly check him over. Relaxing he ignored the cold and sting that the alcohol cloths caused to his face and arms, absently watching Soren roughly wash the multiple superficial and some slightly deeper cuts. After Soren went about taping over all the larger and or freshly bleeding cuts Yami held up his finger, his friend clipping on the SpO2 monitor and turning it on. After a minute and a small beep later Soren sighed and unhooked the monitor. "Your level is a little low, but I won't hook you up to oxygen. Go get some rest; I will finish dealing with everything else here."

"I'll give you an overview on the…"

Raising a finger in the air Soren silenced him, gaining a small glare from his friend, "Go sleep, now, I can make the other two EMT's here use their vocal cords and give me an overview on all the patients. Now, go to that rig over there outside of the triage zone and sleep. You need it," he said forcefully, hands placed firmly on his hips for emphasis.

Sighing Yami was acquiescent and made his way to the rig, Keenan right behind him as he trekked over. He did not have the energy to argue, and now that he had been sitting he could feel the heavy bone weariness dropping down on him. Opening the back of the ambulance Yami climbed in, turning to Keenan he said sternly, "Half hour tops, and tell me if the call comes in from the hospitals or if something happens."

"I will come get you right away, now rest you persistent bastard," Keenan laughed, emphasizing his point by closing the ambulance doors abruptly. Exhaling sharply Yami held back a scowl and sat down on the stretcher. It was soft, not as much so as his mattress, but at the moment it was creating instant euphoria. Repressing a yawn Yami quietly pulled out the blanket from the edge of the stretcher and eased himself down. The moment he was horizontal he was flooded with relaxation, intensely stiff muscles and pure exhaustion. Barely hearing the noises outside he drifted off to sleep, his body and mind falling into oblivion.

Taking a deep breath he inhaled and examined the smells around him. Water, smoke and the distinct odors of burning flesh and sweat filled his nostrils. Scanning the area around him as he finished stepping out of his car and closing the door he absorbed it all in a glance. There were three buildings aflame with firefighters trying to stifle the blaze, the LRT that had been hit was slowly being dismantled and shoved onto large trucks. The crane was still there, too heavy to move and still too close to the hot zone of the fire it had been left where it fell, and probably would remain there until the fires were out. A triage zone was set up within a few feet of him, these people were obviously yellow and green tagged or they would not still be there. By the LRT police officers were closing body bags and loading them onto a van, they were being delicate and almost too careful in his mind with their handling.

Seeing a police officer approaching him he forced a smile, time to let himself play the good doctor, "Hello officer."

"You can't be here sir, it's too dangerous," the man said gruffly, adjusting the belt around his waist and almost habitually resting his hand a lot the holstered gun at his hip.

"I'm here to help sir, the news said that any off duty doctors should come and give their aid. I am free, the hospitals have yet to call me in," he said insistently, his hardness melting away allowing what little remained human in him out. "I only wish to help."

The officer stared at him skeptically, white mustache twitching as he chewed his lip in concentration. Looking as if he made his decision he opened his mouth to speak when yelling spewed out from the triage zone.

"Someone help!"

Taking advantage of the officer's stunned silence he bolted past him and raced into the triage zone. The source and reason for the screaming was immediately apparent. Soren, he recognized him right away, was kneeling beside a young teenage boy whom had fallen over from his chair and lay unconscious on the ground. A woman was on the young man's other side, frantically crying while a police officer held her back. Soren was clearly flustered, not finding a pulse at any of the places he checked he laid his hand on the young man's chest. Continuing his approach Alphonse could see that the young man clearly was not breathing.

"I need help here now!" Soren yelled. Alphonse turned his head at the sound, and came rushing over, kneeling down beside the medic.

"What is the issue?"

"Don't rightly know," Soren admitted, looking over at the newcomer. He looked strangely familiar, but the EMT could not place where he knew the man from. His ID card was partly obscured, but he could see the hospital id number. "You are a doctor?" The man nodded, looking down at the patient. Professional fingers probed while Soren began CPR on the unconscious victim.

"What is his triage status?" Alphonse looked over to the younger man who indicated that the status had been yellow. "Upgrade his status immediately to red. He has internal bleeding, looks like a slow leak, I am not surprised that you missed this before, it looks fairly new. Get him loaded up and out of here as soon as you get a pulse."

Soren nodded, not looking up from the prone patient, "There is another EMT in that rig over there, his name's Yami. Wake him up from his rest, and tell him to vacate. We need it to get this guy to the hospital."

Alphonse felt his pulse begin to race from both excitement and panic. The two sides of him clashing but in their duality made adrenaline race through him. He wanted to grin but held that pleasure back, Slightly confused seeming, he had to get the information again. "Where is he?"

The young EMT barely glanced at him, thankfully he did not recognize him, "Keenan said he sent him to sleep in that ambulance over there. Go wake him up for me please," he said before pulling a pocket mask from his jacket, sealing it over the young man's mouth and began CPR.

Turning Alphonse walked to the ambulance, keeping his excitement in check. He had not planned on this blessing, so he would have to conjure up what to do on the fly and make no mistakes. He's made too many of those in the past, let his excitement of the moment control him and suppress his intelligence. Euphoria was a hard thing to ignore, along with complete dominance and control. But he could not afford any slip up tonight, everything had to be thought out and executed flawlessly. If not, the images that he had been imagining and waiting patiently to see and create would have to continue to wait. Patience was something he had a great deal of, but it never seemed to say in check when he was around Yami.

That young man had a fire in him, a flame that ignited not only the anger burning within him and the want to cause him harm, but also painful memories of his precious Devon. The thought of it all made him quicken his pace and using long strides closed the distance between him and the ambulance.

Reaching up he gripped the handle, cursing inwardly at the tremor in his hands. No turning back now, it was not likely that he was going to get a chance like this again. Clicking the door open he peered into the dark ambulance. From the light permeating the windshield and the flames behind him, he could see Yami sleeping soundly on the stretcher. The blanket was pulled up past his shoulders leaving only his head exposed; his expression was serene in slumber. Before he could stop it Devon's sleeping face blended with that of Yami's, a near identical match.

"Devon," he whispered, the small sound reached Yami's ear and he began to stir. Cursing the thoughts of his other half he quietly closed the doors to the back of the ambulance.

_'So like my Devon, so young and innocent yet strong. I can't do this, I can't hurt him_.'

Snarling Alphonse shoved that part of him back into silence, eerie eyes watching Yami roll over and open his eyes. '_He is nothing like Devon! He will pay for humiliating and defying me_,' he growled internally and rose up.

Blearily peering around Yami rubbed his eyes, seeing someone stand up in the corner of the rig he shot upright, his pulse skipping a beat then racing. Taking a deep breath he let out a small chuckle, "A little creepy don't you think Keenan."

Alphonse grinned, stepping up to the side of the stretcher he peered intently at Yami, his face illuminated by the filtered light from outside. His grin widened in satisfaction, Yami recognized him instantly.

Body stiffening in shock Yami stared wide eyed at Alphonse. His mind was screaming at him to run, to lash out, but his fear was keeping him paralyzed. Realizing that he was holding his breath he exhaled sharply, trembling hands moving to pull the blanket off his legs. Ruby eyes shifted around in panic looking for some way out, skin becoming pale he locked gazes with Alphonse. He was trapped.

'_He is just a kid, leave him alone_!'

Roaring boisterously in frustration Alphonse surged forward, Yami launched himself backward falling to the floor on the other side of the stretcher in an attempt to avoid him. In his fury he moved fast, like a cheetah in a dead sprint. Rolling over the other side of the bed he grabbed hold of Yami arm, which had jolted up in a failed block. Straightening his free hand he propelled it hard into the back of Yami's neck, hitting his projected target with all his strength.

Yami could barely let out a gasp of pain as his vision blackened. As if the strings holding him up had been cut he fell limp, all sensation gone from his body as he crumbled backward. He vaguely watched through tunnel vision as he fell to the floor, darkness overwhelming him before he hit the hard metal below.

Silently Alphonse knelt down, easing the trembling in his hands and the sudden quickness of breath he peered down at his prey. He had hoped for more of a fight, he was looking forward to it, but he could imagine how tired the young man was along with the fact that he was still on the mend. He would be more alert later for him to play with, better able to struggle and resist. Grinning he gripped Yami's shirt and pulled the unconscious young man upright, propping him up against the side of the rig he held him still so he would not fall back over. He could not wait to hear him scream, nor for the amount of work he knew it was going to take to get that sound out of him. With barely any effort he lifted Yami up onto the stretcher. Using the buckles on the stretcher he strapped him in, pulling them tight enough to bruise, ensuring that even if he woke up he would not be able to struggle away fast. Checking them once more he grunted in satisfaction. Clambering into the front seat he smiled at his luck, the key was left in the ignition, almost as if it was a sign that this was right. Buckling himself in he turned on the vehicle, checking his mirrors to make sure no one was heading towards him he pushed on the gas and drove off down the street.

Hearing the teenager gasp harshly Soren stopped doing chest compressions. Seeing the classic yawning mouth motion and checking the young man's vitals quickly, he sighed in relief. Sitting back on his hunches he inhaled slowly to calm his racing heartbeat. The moment he glanced around his brow furrowed in confusion, "Where the hell did the ambulance go...and where is Yami and that guy I sent to get him?" he questioned.

Keenan, whom had came running over to help not long after Soren sent the man away to wake Yami, shrugged in perplexity, "The hell...it was still there when I looked over my shoulder a minute ago."

"Yami was in there..." Soren gasped, shoving his pocket mask back into his pocket, "He wouldn't just fuck off and desert us." Mind racing, he suddenly paled, springing to his feet and ignoring the yelled protests from the officers around him he ran to one of the nearby ambulances. It finally clicked now; those eyes, that voice and the silhouette, it all matched. Cursing at his stupidity he yanked the back of the rig open and pulled out the stretcher from within.

Keenan bolted up to him, grabbing the handle on one side of the stretcher he helped wheel it over to the patient. Staring at the darkness in Soren's eyes he said, "What the hell is going on, you seem to have figured something out that the rest of us haven't."

Stumbling to a stop beside the teenager Soren did not give Keenan time to react before he squeezed the handles at the head of the stretcher. Scrambling round Keenan did the same to the bottom end. The stretcher dropped down like a heavy weight to ground level. Pulling off the c-collar and the spine board Soren pointed at the bag full of buckles for Keenan to grab. "I recognize the man I sent to wake him up. The bastards changed his appearance but it was definitely him. If that ambulance is gone that means that prick has Yami hostage."

Bewildered Keenan stammered incredulously, "Who the hell would want to kidnap him?"

Rapidly, with Keenan and another officer's help, Soren rolled the patient onto the spine board after securing the c-collar. Connecting the straps to the board and securing the patient to it Soren continued, his voice low, "The Caduceus Killer. Yami and I were the paramedics that arrived on the scene to save his sixth victim. Let's get this kid to the hospital," between him and Keenan they hefted the patient up onto the stretcher and began wheeling him towards the ambulance. "Call in the three hundred code red to dispatch. That's our code for paramedic being held hostage and tell them the number of that rig. You're driving; I need to stay with this patient. Call for back up as well and radio Craig on the other side and tell him we got a critical patient and are on our way to whatever hospital will take us. I'll radio the hospital."

Stunned and reeling Keenan nodded in understanding while helping Soren load the teenager into the back of the ambulance, "Alright."

Allowing Soren to close the doors he ran to the driver's side and bolted in. Strapping on his seatbelt and turning the key in the ignition he sped off, flicking on the siren after Soren told him where the button was. Reaching over he pulled out the radio and began his spew, driving with one hand, "We have a code 300 RED, I repeat code 300 RED. A man drove off with ambulance number 1121 with an unconscious EMT inside..."

Checking again that the area around him was clear and void of people Alphonse climbed out of the ambulance and into the cold outside air. Paranoid he checked again for any prying eyes. Satisfied he strode around to the back of the vehicle. Opening the doors he climbed in and quickly checked that Yami was still unconscious. Leaning over the stretcher he squeezed Yami's shoulder, gaining no reaction he grunted and climbed back out. Peering around he sized up each vehicle around him. He could not go back to his car, it was in far too noticeable of a spot for him to risk trying to use.

Tapping his fingers against his side he locked on the car paralleled to him. It was an older Mazda, very easy to break into without causing much noise. He needed to be fast, if he was spotted all of this would be ruined.

It did not take him long. Using some of the tools within the ambulance he jimmied the lock and opened the door. Popping open the back door he left it open and dashed back to the ambulance. After a moment of searching he found the buckles used on the spine boards. Quickly, after stripping off Yami's jacket, paramedic shirt and his steel toe boots, Alphonse used them to tie Yami's hands behind his back along with his ankles. Again, for assurance, he tightened them as tight as he could.

With ease he hefted Yami's unconscious form over his shoulder. Not bothering to close the ambulance he strutted across the street to the car. With a small leak of gentleness he knelt down and laid Yami across the backseat, tightly buckling him. The keys were easily found, things coming together nicely when Alphonse flipped down the visor and the keys neatly fell into his lap. Seeing light filter down the street he stiffened and glanced towards to lights. Sirens filled his ears as an ambulance sped past the end of the street heading for the nearby hospital. He relaxed back into his seat, nothing to worry about.

Buckling himself in he drove off, nothing stood between him now. He drove cautiously, slowly; he did not need to be pulled over. A small smirk crossed his features as he drove. 'Flawless.'

* * *

Sharply pulling into the driveway of Bakura's house Grey scrambled out of the car, barely remembering to lock it before dashing to the front door. Sliding across the snow on the porch he put out his hands to stop a rather bad body check into the door. Cringing he raised his hand to knock on the door, he was saved from the effort. Reno was happily staring at him through the window and insistently whining at whoever was watching the television. The front door opened to reveal a somnolent but coherent Mike. The cowboy raised a brow in question as he stepped aside to let Grey in. Kicking the snow from his boots Grey trudged in and politely closed the door, petting Reno whom came over to greet him.

"Got an active missing person call, apparently one of the paramedics at the incident downtown was sleeping in an ambulance that was stolen by a random individual. They found the ambulance empty and abandoned, Bakura and I are in charge of the case apparently," he expounded, finally gaining his breath.

Mike scowled deeply, barely cloaking the concern on his face, "Some people have no appreciation for what they are doing," he grunted. "I'll go wake the brat up."

"I'm up," grumbled a voice from the bedroom door. Grey and Mike both turned to see Bakura slowly walking out of his room, half dressed and trying to pull on a sweater. "What's going on downtown?"

Grey stared at him incredulously, "Are you really that oblivious to the rest of the world?"

Finally managing to pull the shirt over his head Bakura glared at his partner, "I've been too busy to watch the news."

Scowling Grey quickly gave Bakura quick overview of what had transpired downtown, seeing Bakura's shoulders sink a worry creepy through his eyes he stopped. Turning away Bakura shuffled back to check into Yami's bedroom and out the front window. "He hasn't come home yet."

"He said he was probably going to be stuck there till six or so," Mike piped in, ignoring the glare Bakura sent at him. "He called about half an hour ago, he's been running triage there since the incident happened, and he's stuck there until his remaining patients are gone."

"Why didn't you come and tell me this," Bakura said stiffly, moving to the front door and slowly beginning to put on his boots and jacket.

"He told me not to tell you," he stated simply.

Grabbing his keys Bakura glanced at his uncle, "You're going to pick him up when he's off right if I can't?"

"Of course, I don't have to leave till tonight anyway," Mike said with a smile. "Be careful you two, apparently the roads are atrocious right now, still pretty icy especially heading towards downtown."

"Alright, I will hopefully see you for more than a minute before you leave. Get some sleep old guy," Bakura called out while dashing out the door behind Grey. "Later!"

Plopping into the car Bakura strapped on his seatbelt just in time for Grey to step on the gas pedal and launch them forward and out of the cul-de-sac. Releasing a loud yawn Bakura glanced over at his partner, "So what all do we know?"

"He has been missing for at least an hour, no identification yet when I was called. The person who called it in was busy with a patient and only had time to report it. The ambulance was found a few blocks away, empty aside from a few things, the cops on scene that called me said that had not started looking through everything yet to see if there is any ID," Grey expounded while continuing to drive. "Otherwise, we know nothing, we will find out more when we get there hopefully."

"And they are positive there is a paramedic missing?"

Grey nodded, turning the wheel and shoulder checking as he did so, "They sent him to sleep in that rig and he was nowhere on sight. That's all I know."

Scowling Bakura relaxed back into his seat, "Great, hopefully this isn't a wild goose chase."

Smirking and giving out a small chuckled Grey said, "Don't try and jinx us now."

Over the quiet radio the two continued to babble and banter for the rest of the drive. Approaching the street Bakura leaned forward against the dashboard and peered at the scene before them. Police tape cordoned off a section of the street, in the centre was the abandoned ambulance with the back doors wide open. Across the street from it two police officers were questioning a rather distraught man while taking pictures of a spot on the street where a car once was, the square of ash fault. With no snow on it making the spot. Tire tracks lead away from it heading to the end of the street and away onto the mass jumble of the major street at the end. Sighing he patiently waited for Grey to park before unbuckling his seatbelt and climbing out of the car.

Feet making crunching sounds in the snow he trekked down the street and ducked under the police tape, briefly flashing his badge at the questioning look from an officer. Shaking off some of the cold he moved up to the two officers questioning the man he had seen. In the corner of his vision he saw Grey branch away and head to the ambulance to question the officers there on their findings.

"The bastard stole my car!" the man exclaimed, dramatically pointing to the void spot they were standing beside.

"And you saw him?" one of the officers asked, lifting his gaze to see Bakura standing beside him and gave him a small nod of acknowledgement. "Yet you didn't stop him?"

"Well, I was going to, until I saw him carry someone from the ambulance to my car. Whoever it was he was tied up and out cold, he wasn't moving. So I decided better safe and report what I see then get meddled into something bigger," he explained, eyes haggard with lack of sleep but bright with intensity. "I swear it, that's why I called it in right away."

"Could you see either the perpetrator or the captive person at all?" Bakura questioned.  
The man sighed and shook his head in dismay, "It was too dark man, I could only see that they were both male. The one who took my car looked huge though, really tall and really muscular."

Brow furrowing Bakura glanced back at the rig, seeing Grey walking over to him with a paramedic's jacket in his hand he sighed, 'so much for the wild goose chase and getting home early,' he thought. "If you remember anything more here's my number, do not hesitate to call, I'm Detective Ryu Bakura. I'll let these officers continue taking down your information." Turning he made to move towards Grey when he felt his cell phone vibrating in his coat pocket. Pulling it out he scowled, it was Soren, opening his phone he held up his hand at Grey to stop him from speaking before answering. "Hey, bad timing Soren, I'm at a call."

Grey glared at him, glaring back he ignored his partner only to wince at the loudness of Soren's voice. "That's why I'm calling you ass, are you on the missing paramedic case?"

Seeing Grey shaking the jacket at him trying to get his attention he fervently waved him off again, "Yeah, I'm at the scene right now, why?" Feeling Grey shove the jacket into his chest he reluctantly took it with a scowl, eyes falling on the name embroidered on the arm. Heart sinking he felt his throat tightened as Soren continued. "It's Yami...I didn't recognize the bastard at first, but Alphonse took him. He's changed his entire fucking appearance; I can't believe it didn't click when I saw him. Dammit!"

"What..." Bakura stammered out in shock, eyes still locket on the jacket in his hands, barely feeling Grey's hand on his shoulder.

"Alphonse took him...Yami was the one sleeping in the rig..." came the barely audible reply, Soren's voice filled with guilt.

As if a trigger snapped within him Bakura swivelled around and demanded loudly, hand gripping the arm of the man with the stolen car, "What direction did that car go in? Did you see it leave?"

Dumbstruck by the suddenness of Bakura's outburst the man pointed down the street with a quivering hand, "That way."

Releasing the man Bakura stormed off to the car, still on the line with Soren he ground out, "Get your ass down to one district office now, I need you to give me a full description of that pricks fancy new makeover." Hanging up the phone he blindly with rage wrenched the car door open, grip white knuckled around the jacket in his hands.

"Bakura, slow down!" Grey yelled running up beside his partner, stopping him from getting into the driver's seat.

"I'm driving; you are way too distracted to."

"Move Grey!" Bakura snapped body tense and shaking, eyes black with rage. "We are wasting time!"

"And we won't make it to the station in one piece in the state you are currently in. Get your ass in the passenger seat now," Grey retorted stiffly, firmly staying where he was.

With a growl Bakura stormed around the car and reluctantly into the passenger seat. Heaving a shaky sigh Grey climbed into the car and turned it on. Making sure that his partner had put his belt on he back up before turning the car around and up the street. Hazel eyes watched as Bakura's grip only tightened on the jacket in his hands, black eyes staring hard out the window with his jaw tightly locked. Swallowing hard Grey murmured out, "Breathe Kura', we'll find him."

"We are already an hour behind him. An hour that the disgusting bastards has had his hands on him. We better fucking find him, and fast," he ground out through clenched teeth.

**A/N: **_Sorry for taking so long again, I hope you all like it and that I am not losing all of you because of how slow I am. R and R please :D_


	16. Chapter 16

**SILHOUETTE**

**A/N:** _Thanks to Alice, Junki, Aureniko, Cherry, Sparkey, Jazz-Lou, dragonlady222, yami yasi, Soularia (*Big HUG* for all your constant help, support and inspiration) and kiki2222 for the final one that gave me the kick in the ass I needed to finish this chapter. And, to my awesome boyfriend, for helping me write the final segments of this chapter._

_To put it nicely…this was a fucking frustrating chapter to write. Between the writers blocks, my first time writing this kind of stuff, and the damn computer losing sections (or the damn weather creating power surges or outages, along with my external hard drive deciding to die taking all the writing with it) this chapter did not seem to want to be written. Hopefully it was worth the extensive wait. _

_*Bows low* Gomen nasai -please enjoy ^^_

**CHAPTER SIXTEEN**

Sensations hit him hard. His shoulder joints popped loudly as he felt his arms being levered upward. Deliriously he cracked his eyes open, blearily he tried to focus on something, anything, but everything was a dark blur. Gasping, lungs and throat dry, he heard a hard wheeze escape him. His knees began to lift from where they were resting on the ground, his shoulders grinding more from the pressure of his entire weight hanging from his hands. They were still tied, tight, sensation in them had not returned. Then again, he still couldn't feel much of his body. It was cold, bone chilling to be precise. Goosebumps covered his exposed skin and the rest of him was noticeably shivering. He could feel a cold draft filtering in, it felt distant, but it was enough to leave him completely frozen. Cringing he held back a groan as his head began to pound, a sudden wave of it cascading down his neck and through his spine.

Something metallic dropped nearby, the piercing ring reverberating in his ears. Opening his eyes again he forced his hazy vision to focus. In an instant he regretted it. Alphonse was standing directly in front of him, intense green eyes almost laughing at him, grinning in satisfaction. Blood freezing in his veins Yami stiffened, focus sharpening briefly. The colours were askew, random objects –albeit blurry- were of bright off putting colours, colours that did not match in his mind. Everything was so bright, a brightness that was not properly registering. He knew it was not this luminescent, mentally he knew he was surrounded it almost pure darkness. Wincing he squinted, not wanting to take his gaze off of Alphonse but also trying to block out the brilliant colours and white lights.

It was hard to focus; nothing seemed to be real or to fit. Mentally he was registering what everything was around him, the reality of it, but his eyes seemed slow to follow. He knew what he was seeing was not real, it was hallucinations created from the blow to the back of his head, but he could not tear his gaze away. Ghostly images of insanely grinning heads were pulling out of Alphonse. Mirror images of him, just with the maniacal Cheshire grin that he never allowed to surface. Some even seemed to be cackling, but no sound reached his ears.

Pain shot through him, causing his back to arch, eyes widen and mouth go agape in a quiet gasp. White hot agony shot through every joint and muscle in his body. It's intensity confusing the nerves and signals in him, creating a mixed sensation of overwhelming pain and pleasure. He didn't know what to do, how to react, it was so blinding that all he could do was close his eyes, clench his jaw and tense up. Muscles began to quiver; biting his lip he held back a groan. Hot breath broke through the chill and ghosted across his face, snapping his eyes open he tried not to flinch when Alphonse leaned forward and whispered teasingly in his ear, the pleasure obvious in his voice. "Fascinating, isn't it. How that one single hit to such a sensitive area can cause such a variety of sensations. Pain, pleasure, bright lights and vivid hallucinations. Are you enjoying it, it must be quite the unique experience?"

"You should try it sometime, you might like it," Yami ground out through clenched teeth.

Smiling Alphonse grunted before leaning against the tall heavy table beside him. "You would love to help me experience it wouldn't you."

Inhaling and exhaling slowly in hopes of calming the pain and trembling in his limbs, Yami peered lazily at him. Shrugging as if uninterested he answered. "Maybe."

Smirk remaining Alphonse casually pulled out a scalpel from within his jacket and began to lackadaisically spin it between his fingers, piercing eyes never leaving Yami. "One should think, no completely and utterly believe that your answer would be something far more definitive than maybe."

Keeping an air of indifference Yami retorted, "Probably would have been my answer, if I could think straight. But the last thing on my mind right now is conjuring up ways to cause you or anyone pain. Sorry, I get no rise from it."

Grunting in amusement Alphonse pushed himself away from the table. Still toying with the scalpel he stood before Yami, barely a few inches between him, the blade of the scalpel narrowly missing caressing Yami's cheek. He could see the clarity in Yami's eyes returning, the burn of intelligence and youthful defiance bright and growing. The boy was watching his every move, attention un-diverted and focused. Exhaling smoothly he rested the tip of the scalpel on his bottom lip, the cold of the steel calming. "So you truly believe that? Or is that a faint hope of denial against it."

Eyes narrowing Yami stiffly answered, "I do not lie, especially about something like that."

"Oh but I think you would enjoy it if you tried it," Alphonse grinned, devilish and dark. "It's exhilarating, a high beyond anything. Addictive as well, once you do it it's all you think of. Everyone in the world day dreams and imagines destroying those that annoy them at work, their spouses, lovers, people that disgust them or hurt them. It's almost human nature to want to cause or create pain, whether felt or inflicted. Do you agree?"

"Thankfully most of the world does not act on such urges or imaginings," was the curt answer.

Grin extending Alphonse slipped the scalpel back into his jacket, "Glad to see we both agree. Though for different reasons I assume." Seeing a slight nod from Yami he continued. "It would be a pity if there were more people like me, too much of a crowd, too few sheep to butcher and shave. It would not be so enjoyable. Sharing for me is not an option, and sharing my flock, my rather vast selection of sheep, is out of the question."

Holding back the intense shiver that wanted to rip through his spine Yami kept eye contact. He was chilled to the bone, both literal and mentally. It disgusted him, but he needed to keep the conversation going, keep Alphonse's attention focused on talking long enough for all of this senses to return. "Understandable."

Taking slow lazy steps he began to circle him, pacing with his arms behind his back, gaze remaining locked with Yami's except when he was behind him. He relished in the faint hint of unease that flickered in Yami's crimson orbs every moment that he would exit his vision range. Staying close enough so that Yami could still feel him brush against him at the odd moment, he let his thoughts flow, enjoying this greatly. "Your reason for agreeing is that you believe that people with thought processes like me should be burned in hell, or never even exist. You, Yami, spend your life and all your effort saving people and keeping them alive. I was like you once," his eyes softened for a moment, before returning to agates. "Then I found a new love, the love of the kill."

Keeping his ears locked and trained on every word Alphonse said, Yami allowed his eyes to wander for the brief moments that Alphonse floated behind him. Every time the bastard tapped his left shoulder with his own he would snap his gaze back onto him, keeping up with the man's rhythm while taking advantage of it.

"The power of it is exhilarating, all consuming. Once you have that small taste of it you want more and more, and your want to better yourself every time you do it. Find new ways to kills, or use the same style yet master the method till it becomes a form of art. Yes an artist, creating grotesque yet beautiful and awing images, like Goya and the dark paintings he created. Just the sight of blood flowing in smooth rivers down your arms in the moons light is exquisite. It appears darker, yet lets off the slight shine of liquid silver. Fascinatingly magnificent."

The windows were high above him, probably a good fifteen feet up, lofty ceilings. They were the old checker board designed windows, with metal creating the small blocks within. Filthy beyond belief they let barely any light filter in, and what light drifted down was pale and ghostly. Large old crates, both metal and wood, encompassed the area he was in, blocking off the view of the rest of the building and the light from the lamp on the table from spreading out. He could tell that it was massive, not only by the high ceilings and impenetrable darkness, but by what he could see in the far distance. Along the top at the level of the windows a steel walkway surrounded the perimeter of the building, disappearing for a great distance than reappearing in the dark windowless distant wing in front of him. Two doors, closed, had their lights on. To his eyes they were small, about the length and size of one of his fingers. But through their light they illuminated a balcony walkway connecting with the one surrounding the perimeter. He could not see stairs, but he assumed that there was a way up there somewhere.

"It's no longer for revenge anymore. Too trivial, too unsatisfying, I need more than that now. I crave the sensation of feeling someone give their last breath, of them trembling in pain and fear under my hands. Of being God in that moment, having all the control, all the power, with nothing that can stop me or interfere. I have all the power in those moments, and it's exhilarating, a drug that I cannot live without. Inflicting pain and death is so much more satisfying and pleasurable than saving lives, easily more euphoric than sex."

Inhaling deeply Yami cringed at the smells that overwhelmed his senses. Old blood, thick and heavy, along with the distinct odour of disturbed and dissected bowls. Stagnant water was also prominent over the other scents and the thick coat of dust that filled the building. Across from him was another metal table, much like the one beside him. It, unlike the empty one, was covered in both medical and butcher items. Scalpels, rib cutters, cleavers, a small portable surgical kit and rusted but still useable butchering knives along with one of the barbed hooks like the one he was hanging from. Below him was a simplistic and rustic old drain, the floor slanting down ever so slightly to it. Trailing on the floor to the edge of the far table was a cable; the stop, up and down buttons on it easy to read, the cable was attached to the hook he was hanging from. Peering upward he saw the metal track heading off into the distance, other hooks attacked to it in several feet intervals. In that moment Yami knew exactly where he was, fists clenching he tried not to squirm in dismay and elation at his revelation. It was the old slaughter house by Heritage Park, the original place Alphonse had tried to drag him to after taking him from the Rusty Cage. Feeling the distinct tap on his shoulder again he snapped his eyes over to lock with Alphonse, swallowing hard at the dark expression in the man's eyes.

"That is why I have to destroy you Yami; you have meddled and interfered with my perfection, my artwork. I cannot let that happen. If you had only remained at the door and left well enough alone none of this would be happening. You would have been too fascinating to me, too precious to watch, for me to want to kill if you had not shoved yourself where you did not belong. Now, you will become the best piece of work I have ever done, and probably will ever do. You are the only one worth sinking all my effort and concentration into."

"Why, because I fucked with your ego so hard that it left you flat on your ass," Yami growled out, not thinking or processing his thoughts before letting them out.

Alphonse immediately stopped his pacing; rotating on his heel he gave out a small smile, a smile that sent an instant chill down Yami's spine. Before regret even entered his mind, Alphonse clenched his fist and slammed it hard into his solar plexus, knocking the wind out of him and flaring up the pain of unhealed wounds. Gasping he held his breath to retain any other sounds, his knees rising up and feet flexing against the pain. Through blurred vision he saw that Alphonse was still smiling, clearly enjoying the reaction he was giving. The scalpel was back in his hand, digits visibly quivering. Yami paled at the rage he could see boiling in Alphonse's eerie eyes, he could not take back what he said now but he sure as hell whished that he could.

He had released the demons restraints, broke the shackles and let them fall, all within one sentence. Resisting the shiver and cringe that threatened to run through him Yami locked his gaze on Alphonse. Trying hard he tried not to imagine what was running through the man's mind. But, with Alphonse's actions, it was hard not to.

Subtle Cheshire grin gracing his features Alphonse leaned casually against the heavy table. Gaze leaving Yami he returned the scalpel into his pant pocket and turned his attention to the table. Hand ghosting over the objects he let his digits re-familiarize themselves with their texture, temperature and the surge of thrill they sent through him. Feeling cold, rusted metal beneath the tips of his fingers he picked up the item and began to idly admire it, fingers lightly trailing down the blade, his gaze following their path. It was a butcher knife, one left behind when the building was abandoned. The blade was still hard and useful, the thin layer of rust left behind merely giving it character and the ability to cause more damage than a completely clean blade. He had sharpened it, the edge of the blade brightly reflecting the lamp light. Attention averting back to his quarry, brandishing the steel at Yami, the grin slowly fading.

"There is no ego in play here, my young friend. Simply a cause, a cause that you have interfered with. That, of course, means that you must be removed from the cast of this great drama."

Remaining stoic Yami merely stared at him, crimson eyes almost apathetic, "This coming from the director who has no control of his own production."

Smirking Alphonse levied himself away from the table. Taking swayed almost coy steps towards Yami he kept his eyes honed in on his prey. Tapping the knife against his thigh in a familiar fashion he inched slowly forward, his steps easily would have been mistaken for drunken is Yami didn't know better. Remaining uninterested the young paramedic kept his gaze on Alphonse while the man came to a stop barely a foot in front of him. In these close parameters Yami could see the slight tremble in Alphonse's hands, barely restrained anger or delight he did not know. Those green eyes were laughing at him, knowing exactly what their owner was going to do and relishing in keeping him guessing.

With a small rapid movement Alphonse had the blade of the butcher knife against Yami's neck, the sharp edge biting lightly into his skin, like a lovers teasing touch. Not flinching Yami continued to watch, noting the smile that continued to play soft notes on Alphonse's lips.

Barely cutting the skin Alphonse brought the knife along Yami's neck then back down to his own side, slipping in into his belt resting comfortably against his hip. Seeing the thin red line he reached up and ran his thumb along it, smearing the small trace of blood. The brightness of its color compared to the darker form of it he was so used to viewing lately was fascinating. Lifting his other hand he placed it on Yami's shoulder, still he could feel the calm stillness in the young man's body as he drifting his thumbs over the hallow between his collarbone and the junction between the neck and shoulder. _'This truly is going to be exquisite,'_ he thought to himself, licking the sweat off his lips before closing the distance between them and suddenly tightening his hold on the young man's shoulders, squeezing his trap. He started off slow, pressure uncomfortable for his prey but not unbearable, gradually increasing the pressure to the point normally used to try and rouse an unconscious patient. He could hear the pain it was causing, Yami was giving no other signs of his discomfort, even his facial expression remained the same. But, he had begun to take quiet yet hard breaths, short and stiff. Leaning forward he whispered, voice barely audible, "I am in complete control. There is nothing you can do to stop me. You are powerless now. Relish in it, and enjoy the production."

"Bullshit. If you were in complete control I wouldn't have been able to interfere in the first place!" Yami retorted sharply.

Smile dissipating Alphonse increased his grip, "Now now, manners boy," he hissed. "Boy's speak when given permission. I have given no such consent yet."

Unable to take the pressure any more Yami, through the intense and painful grip on his shoulders, used what leverage he could muster and lifted himself up. Using the upward motion he thrust his knee into Alphonse's side, connecting lightly with the ribs and sending the man stumbling back but not to his knees. Muscles in his shoulders spasming Yami dropped down, jarring every joint in his arms and cringing, biting his lip against the pain it caused. Taking deep breaths he forced himself to relax, the throbbing in his joints slowly lessening with each breath he took. Hearing shuffling he lifted his head and opened his eyes, gaze floating to where Alphonse had stumbled.

Tense and silent Yami stared on; attention never leaving Alphonse as the man stiffly stabilized himself. Hand ghosting over the spot where Yami's knee had connected with his side. By the small nearly non-existent wince Yami could tell that he had barely caused a bruise, and with the limited leverage he got he was not surprised. But, it did its purpose; it got the bastard off of him. Worth it, he had not decided yet with the vicious glare Alphonse was directing at him. Swallowing hard he kept any flashes of fear as dormant as he could, he could not give Alphonse the satisfaction of knowing just how truly terrified he was.

"You insolent," a slow cleansing breath released from Alphonse's mouth. Straightening completely he flexed his hands, the pulsating rhythm in his veins returning colour to them and allowing the heat of his anger to circulate. Reflexively he pulled out the butcher knife that was still clasped to his hip. Twirling it he stopped it when the top tip was pointing to the ceiling. "You...will regret that."

Flinching and eyes widening in horror Yami could not snap his eyes away. Alphonse raised the blade, flexing his hands and adjusting his grip to bring it down in a hard arch towards him. Breathe hitching in his lungs he stiffened and waited for the consequences.

It was as if a string, pulled taunt and tight around the wrist, had taken hold of Alphonse's wrist. He moved the swing the blade down and froze half way down, face red with exertion and muscles quivering excessively. Still tense Yami furrowed his brow in perplexity, mind spinning as he stared at the knife that was hovering a few inches above his face. Exhaling and inhaling in short bursts he stared on at Alphonse, his confusion amplifying by what transpired next.

"Leave him alone!"

Vicious green eyes snapping to his frozen wrist Alphonse snarled, "Let go you useless piece of shit." In his mind's eye he could see his former self gripping his wrist and elbow, restraining him. "Stop interfering!"

"I won't let you hurt him!" cried the shade.

"Stay out of this," Alphonse bellowed, pulling his hand free from the spectres grasp. "You weak fool, you will ruin everything!"

Yami stared at Alphonse, talking to himself or so it seemed. He scanned the room quickly, keeping one eye on the dually ranting psychopath, checking to see if there was anything in the shadows that he had missed. One eye was not enough however, as Alphonse was suddenly right in his face. Startled he felt his lungs freeze and the air go stale in his lungs in shock. In rapid fire concession a fist slammed into his side, aggravating old wounds, and another one into his stomach doing just as much damage on his not completely healed innards.

"This is not your son! This boy is a fake, your precious son is dead, and he will soon be too!" barked the killer.

Gasping for air Yami clenched every muscle in his body, pain flaring up his entire abdomen and torso region. Keeping his eyes open he hazily viewed the scene playing out before him. Eyes wide in shock he felt his mouth dry in shock and perplexity. '_What the fuck is going,'_ he thought, brain unable to process what he was witnessing.

Alphonse twitched, or at least that is the way it looked to Yami. The doctors leg kicked out, then his hand. "Pathetic, even if he were alive, do you really think this would save him? Do you think that your little Devon would live? Those are the actions of a silly housewife. Be a man!" He yelled at nothing.

Alphonse looked down on the snivelling man he once was. He could feel his pride grow that he had overcome such weakness. "This is what happens when you are weak." His foot lashed out at his past form. "This is what happens when you are useless." The sobbing 'please' repeated over and over was beginning to annoy him, a mantra that would never stop in a voice at the same sonic level of a dog whistle, so he lashed out again before returning his attention to the project that was hanging in chains. "You, though, my boy, are a little more than useless. That is why you are here, no. I am not a fan of meddlers."

Inert, muscles stiffening in trepidation Yami could not flail, could not push away, could not even react to what was transpiring. As if in rigor mortem he remained still, only his eyes shifted, watching Alphonse step up to him, dark devilish grin returning, a sinister glint in his eyes. The man seemed suddenly calm, focused, something that he had been devoid of for the past few minutes. It put Yami on edge, his body notwithstanding the shiver that rippled up his spine.

"It is time for the fun to begin." Suddenly Alphonse's head snapped over his shoulder, stability lost, "Stop that snivelling. You do not deserve to witness this, let alone cry about it," he spun and kicked at the air a few times before spitting on the floor. He turned back to Yami, the cool smile on his face.

The next thing he knew, Yami was falling. Stomach flexing he bent his legs, knees hitting the concrete hard, unable to recover from the stunned pain before a foot connected solidly into his ribs. Winded, Yami as shoved backwards, his back and head connecting with the floor narrowly missing the study metal table leg. Air returning Yami moved to sit up, to struggle, to no avail. The killer instantly grabbed his still chained wrists and yanked him to his feet, another hand gripping his belt to help the process. Cold metal touched his back as he was bodily thrown onto the empty table. It was not as void of objects as he thought it had been. Straps were screwed securely into the table, on for his tied wrists, each leg and one for across his hips. Alphonse had already secured his ankles while he had taken them in, shock gone Yami tried to sit up again. The man's thick hands gripped his shoulders, pushing him down and immediately overwhelming him in his weakened state. Yami still struggled, squirming and fighting back as Alphonse rapidly finished strapping him down. He knew that he stood no chance, but that was not stopping him from at least putting up a fight.

Alphonse dropped the surgical bag beside Yami's head, collecting the tools that he needed and lined them neatly on the other side of Yami's head so his project could view them. "Cleanliness is next to godliness, I was always told. You are always very clean, aren't you Devon?" The older man shook his head, clearing it, shoving aside his former self. "I told you, this is not your Devon!" Alphonse straightened, taking in the wide crimson eyes staring at him, defying him. "Would this happen to your Devon?" A fist slammed into Yami's stomach, and another to his face. "Or how about this?" Something heavy and metal crashed into Yami's right knee, and again over his hands.

Alphonse, dropping the metal bar, reached down and grabbed a tool from the floor and looked down at his shade. "Would those terrible things happen to Devon?"

"_No, not to my Devon, please don't hurt him anymore."_

"You blithering fool, this is not Devon! I would not hurt Devon. He is as much mine as yours. He created me as much as you did. To prove this is not Devon," Alphonse whirled onto the young medic, his eyes filled with madness and a small smirk on his face, "This might hurt a bit, boy." Alphonse brandished a scalpel and a small bone saw, taking in the first glint of fear in his toy's eyes. "Well, might is an understatement."

The knife went in, and Yami could barely hold back the scream.

**A/N:** _Hope this was worth the wait. Review please ^^ Ja ne!_


	17. Chapter 17

**SILHOUETTE**

**A/N:** _Thanks to Anonymous (for chappy 7), yamiyasi, kiki2222, KaitouHime-NightsWing, Alice,Dragonlady222 and Mazula7856 (for chappy 5) for reviewing, you guys are all fantastic! A big thanks goes to Soularia and the 'Letter to Alphonse' that she wrote to me that got me out of my writers block. And, thank you to my Mexico vacation that allowed to me relax and completely get rid of my writers block and allowed me to finish this chapter and write about 6-7 pages of my novel. _

_Hope this chapter is good! Even though it is short…..review pls? lol_

**CHAPTER SEVENTEEN**

The snow was finally dissipating, leaving the air moist and cold. The sunlight already beginning to melt the thick layer of snow from the ground, making it wet and slushy under foot. Thick old combat boots rested on the pavement, snow already melted. Their owner was crouched, deep in thought as his russet eyes scanned the previously viewed crime scene, absorbing over looked items. Photos were taken of the footprints found in the snow upon arrival, said pictures were already developed and in one of his hands, in the other the precious Celtic knot necklace Yami treasured cold from no longer being around the neck of its owner. Scowling Bakura glanced over to the vacant parking spot where the stolen car had been. It's all he had for evidence so far, aside from Yami's belongings and any DNA evidence that might be recovered from the forensics team. The last part he would know nothing about for several hours. Aside from the melted snow the view had not changed much, or revealed anything that had not been recorded before. All that was new was the sun shining brightly down, showing how much time had transpired already, wasted time.

At this point, it was considered a possible missing person case, it would not be an official confirmed one for another eighteen hours. A concept Bakura was not too fond of. They all knew that it was a missing person, they all knew who was missing and they all knew who took him. But, because of protocol, he could not actively pursue the case until the twenty-four hour missing mark was passed.

Rising from his hunches Bakura dusted off the bits of snow from his pants, gaze drifting to his right, Grey approached him from where he had been rummaging around in the vacant rig. "They haven't found anything more in there, they're going to take it back to the station and examine it further when the case becomes active."

Giving a nod and a grunt Bakura stared down at the pendant in his hands, "Fucking protocol."

"Nothing we can do about it, aside from tip toe around and formulate a plan. We can't actively do anything for what...nineteen."

"Eighteen," the detective corrected.

"Eighteen hours," Grey continued. "Before we can do any aggressive searching. We can poke around until then and find everything that we can so that when the time comes we are ready."

"Do you have any smokes on you?"

Blindsided Grey gave Bakura a stunned look, "I thought you quit, you've been clean for six months," pulling out a pack from his jacket. It was crumpled, and clearly old. "That's about how old that pack is."

Shrugging Bakura took it, pulled out a cigarette, retrieved a lighter from his own pocket and lit it, taking a long hard drag. "I did quit. Never said it was going to last."

Sighing Grey shook his head slowly in concern, "Nice cover up."

"Shut up," coughed Bakura, lungs adjusting to the abuse. "Let's head back to the station, there's nothing left to do here. Besides, Soren's probably destroyed my desk in his sleep."

"As soon as you finish, that toxic shit is not coming in the car," Grey pointedly stated, giving his partner a fixed look. Seeing that Bakura was still transfixed on the necklace he questioned. "Is that the necklace he started wearing?"

"Yeah," Bakura brushed off, taking another long inhale of his cigarette. "It's his mothers; I think Elenor found it in one of the fireproof boxes. Yami thought it had been buried with her, he never takes this off, not even to shower."

Rubbing his gloved hands together and blowing into them for warmth Grey peered at his partner, absorbing the information and the dejected look on his friend's already jaded face. "Not doing so well are you." Catching the stiff nod his partner gave he sighed. "Should I request for us to be taken off the case. We are lucky to even be on it because of the personal connection."

"I'm going to continue to count my lucky stars."

Turning Grey crossed the remaining steps to their car and leaned against the door, "Where do you think he went? Any ideas?"

With a drawn out exhale, smoke flooding from his lips in a soft cloud, Bakura shrugged, "Not a fucking clue. But I do know what he didn't do."

"Please enlighten me."

"He didn't leave town. Calgary is his safe zone, his haven; it is the most adventitious place for him to be. Leaving would expose him to nosy RCMP's, border patrol, other city police officers if he is bold enough to pass through a city, and simple prying eyes. He would have needed to get somewhere fast; Yami was only going to stay unconscious for so long without a dose, or second, of a sedative. Travelling beyond Calgary would risk having Yami awake in the vehicle with him while he's driving, bad mixture," stating rapidly, before taking another hard inhale of the cigarette, almost finishing it. "He's here, somewhere, it's just where that is the problem."

"He wouldn't take the train either, too conspicuous. So, he will still have that stolen car with him wherever it is that he's gone," Grey murmured thoughtfully, "Unless he dumped it."

"Doubt it, too much work," Bakura cut off, dropping the cigarette to the ground he rotated the ball of his foot over it. "This wasn't planned, this was luck and convenience. It would take too much time to think about a way to get rid of the car, more time than just finding a way to hide it where he is going."

"Luck and convenience huh," said Grey, pushing away from the car he opened the door, claiming the driver's side. "For once he has to wing it and not go by careful calculations. That's dangerous. He could be irrational, make mistakes, or be incredibly unpredictable. Only one of those options is good."

Climbing into the passenger seat Bakura clicked on his seat belt, cranking up the heat the instant Grey turned the vehicle on. Russet eyes focused out the foggy windshield, "I know. Let's get going, we will think better with some grub and coffee in us."

"Sounds good to me," agreed the other detective, waiting for the defrost to kick in and clear the windshields before driving away. "How you hanging in there Kura', you've barely spoken a word."

"Scared shitless," came the bluntly honest answer, causing Grey to look at him in appreciation but shock. "Can't get the images out of my mind, of what he might be doing. I hate it even more that there is barely a damn thing I can do." Fist balled tightly in his lap, the knuckles going white from the strength he was exerting.

Sighing Grey frowned slightly in concern, his own melancholy washing over him, "He'll be alright. We'll find him."

"I know we will find him," Bakura said solemnly, the colour in his face fading. "But I sure as hell hope it's not how I think it's going to be."

With a stiff inhale Grey pursed his lips, forcing the images from his mind, "Yeah."

He listened at first, letting consciousness slowly drift back to him. Rotated onto his belly he could feel the cold of the metal table pressing against his bare chest and stomach, chilling him to the bone, the rest of him exposed to the frigid temperature of the abandoned slaughter house. He was still bound, hands long lost sensation from the tightness of the restraints. They, along with his position, had been changed while he had been unconscious; he was tied to each corner of the table, the rope wrapped around the legs. Groggily he strained all his senses to listen; he could hear nothing but the wind outside and the subtle drip of water nearby. Chancing to open his eyes Yami lifted his head and peered forward. The table filled with tools was directly in front of him, accessible reach if he was untied.

He was thirsty, dehydration had begun to set in while he was unconscious, his throat and mouth were dry and screaming for water. The tantalizing drip nearby was almost another form of torture, one that he wasn't sure if Alphonse had intend for or not, but it was working nonetheless. A deep permanent shiver radiated through him, like a small tremor, his body's only attempt at sustaining his core temperature.

From the angle he was at he couldn't see much, but he could feel the gaze watching him from behind, along with the smile. Alphonse was nearby, watching him, clearly enjoying his slight disorientation. The sensation of the man's vicious eyes fixated on the back of his head increased the shivers in his body. Unease settled in his cut, causing his stomach to churn in discomfort, sweat to perspire from his form even with the chill that had set into his body.

Turning his head he let his eyes rest on the stitched wound on his arm. It was red, angry, but seemed to have been done with the greatest of care. The stitches were fine, done with a precision that came from years and years of mastery. But even though the scar atop would be an even straight line, the humorous bone in his arm would never be again. The sound of the blade of the saw cutting into the bone made him cringe; shoving the memory aside he averted his head to the other side to avoid staring at it, and for now keeping the pain from coming. He was numb, most likely from the cold. But, at the moment he could feel none of his injuries, or the tiredness that had probably set into him, just the overwhelming cold.

"I think I did a beautiful job of the stitches, don't you," Alphonse's voice glided through the silence, quiet and melodic. Tensing Yami refused to answer, keeping his jaw locked and lips pursed tight. He could hear the man's heavy boots taking light steps towards him, a soft echo generating around, the sound ominous and making him want to squirm away. "Please, I would love to hear your opinion; you have to appreciate the things I do to you so you can enjoy the splendour of what you will look like in death." The man finally moved up beside him, digits lightly ghosting over the stitches, affection almost bleeding from the tips of his digits. "I could re-do them if you disapprove, it would be a simple fix."

"No thank you," Yami rasped out, keeping his head turned away.

A soft breath and Alphonse moved rapidly, kneeling down in front of Yami's face, catching the small tense of muscles from his prey. A curt smile, he reached out and gripped Yami's jaw, forcefully turning his head and making the EMT face him. He was not surprised when dark crimson eyes burning into him, almost causing his near perfect stoic demeanour to shudder. Smile broadening he stared hard at the eyes that had been challenging him for so long and even now in defeat he still seared bright with anger, hatred, and an overwhelming will to live. It almost disappointed him that those eyes were soon going to be clouded over. This was worth everything he went through, the burning desire within him to destroy the flame before him overwhelming, excitement from the ideas of what to do to him pulsating through him. Relinquishing Yami's jaw he casually strode over to the table, an item caught his eye, bright and polished. Picking up the freshly cleaned scalpel he examined it for imperfections from his early actions, seeing none he averted back to his prey, "Perhaps then, we should continue. The only question I must ask myself, is do I, this time, administer anaesthetic?"

Unable to resist the wry smile, the prisoner let it cross his lips in clear distain, "Even if you had it, I highly doubt that you would want to use it. It would ruin you, 'fun', as you call it. It would be a waste of your pleasure." Catching the agreeing grin Yami allowed his features to fall back to stoic. "My discomfort is your entire gain."

Kneeling down in front of Yami again, Alphonse almost coyly ran the flat of the blade over the young man's forearm, catching the flash of unease in the young man's eyes. "True enough, it truly would be a waste of time. Even stealing the drug would be a waste of time as I would never us it. I like to hear my prey scream," he let the last sentence slip out in a cold whisper, the warmth of his breath ghosting over Yami's chilled face.

Taking a steadying breath Yami retorted quietly before staring hard at his captor, "I'll bet the sound strokes you're over inflated ego quite nicely." Surprised when there was no violent reaction Yami continued to stare at Alphonse, his gaze steady and his expression neutral. "Said ego being the only thing left of you that is even remotely human, if you want to classify it as that."

A tight smile washed a twinge of apprehension in his prey, flipping the blade Alphonse delicately ran it along Yami's hand, creating a thin almost non-existent cut, "That, Yami, is because I have surpassed the primitive human race and have become something better."

The cut stung, a soft burning sensation, minute compared to his other injuries. Shifting so he could lever himself up slightly Yami smiled wryly, "You believe you've become a god of sorts haven't you, a god that sorts out the weak and decides who is strong enough to live beneath him and be his puppets. Is that right?"

"I like your analogy, it suits very well to my purpose," rising up Alphonse strode slowly around to the side of the table, keeping a hand on Yami's shoulder as he did so, putting enough pressure to flatten the young man against the cold metal. He could feel the shiver beneath his digits, it was not fear, he did not have the young man that far yet, an his skin in areas was hot to the touch but bitterly cold in others. A fever perhaps, possible with how low his immune system probably was and how long he had exposed him to the cold. He made a mental note to make sure the fever did not kill his precious prey before he was done with him. With a subtle flick of his wrist he held the scalpel in his hand much like an artist with a paint brush. "Relax, and I will give you the mark of one that I may have one day considered an equal in intelligence."

Closing his eyes tightly of the sensation of the tip of the scalpel being pressed into his shoulder blades he tried not to focus on the coming mutilation. He knew exactly what Alphonse was speaking of; he could feel the start of the pattern as the tip delicately cut his skin. At this point he was thankful for the cold, the severity of his chill and the first stage of hypothermia was dulling the pain, making it feel more like burning paper cuts more thing anything else. He could tell that the lines were deeper than that, deep enough to leave a permanent scare but not enough to cause significant trauma. He could feel Alphonse gently wiping the blood as it gathered in pools or seeped down his sides, allowing him to perfect his work each line at a time, like a tattoo artist. It felt like hours that Alphonse worked on the expanse of his back like a canvas, drawing a perfectly detailed and elaborate cross between the caduceus and the paramedic symbol, even etching a flowing signature at the bottom. The artist signing his work, claiming its splendour as his own.

Yami tried to distract himself, the pain was minimal, but the constant throb of it and the fact that his entire back had been sliced over and over again with the scalpel was causing it to increase. His concentration as waning as well; his breathing had slipped from the slow even rhythm that he had set to a fast but still controlled speed. The rest of his injuries were fully coming back to the surface as well, his nerves turning back on and firing through their coldness. He was trying not to think of the scar this would create, if it would even be able to become one, or if it would mare his corpse till it rotted way and disappeared.

With holding the sign of relief when he felt t blade leave his back and the metallic click of it being placed elsewhere. Muscles tensing he remained still as the blood was carefully cleaned from his skin, the tenderness of the cloth being ran over his skin not disturbing the already existing clots and any loose edges of skin.

Un-expectantly Alphonse moved away from the table, disappearing somewhere near Yami's feet. Unable to see him Yami was washed over with fear, not any overwhelming amount, but enough that he was uncomfortable and straining to hear what his captor was doing. He could hear some rummaging, it sounded as if it was coming from an old plastic first aid kit, one of the orange ones his mother used to have stored in the back of their car. He recognized the sound from all the times his mother dug out Band-Aids and disinfectant for him and others throughout his childhood. The rummaging stopped and he could hear Alphonse's soft footsteps return to him. The cap to a bottle was gently unscrewed and the bottle, plastic by the sound of it, was placed in front of Yami's face. His already chilled body froze as his eyes read over the label. Tensing tightly as the blue contents of the bottle was poured in copious amounts onto a clean cloth before said cloth was slowly rubbed over his back Yami tightly clenched his fists, nails digging into the palms of his hands. The iodine set the cuts on his back aflame, holding back a groan of discomfort he closed his eyes, jaw clenched tightly.

The shivers in his body had increased once Alphonse had carefully cleaned off the iodine and tapped gauze carefully over his back. The mix of the cold liquid on him causing this change, the cold deeply sinking into his bones and chilling him completely. Hearing all the instruments being returned to the first aid kit he opened his eyes, the click of the kit being closed making him avert his gaze over his shoulder as best he could, watching Alphonse disappear into the darkness beyond where he was. There was no gloating, no cold words, no beating, just heavy silence and the bitter cold around him. The addition of a blanket draped over him, when this transpired he did not know. It barely helped, only really blocking out some of the wind rippling through the vast building. He guessed that Alphonse sensed the fever or the hypothermia and decided not to let the elements or natural cause kill him first.

Resting his head on the table he forced his body to relax. The intense cold lessening as the blanket began to do its job, and his breathing returned to an even slow pace. Exhaustion crept over him again, rocking him back to sleep. He did not fight it, allowing oblivion to bring him back to her embrace.


	18. Chapter 18

**SILHOUETTE**

**A/N:** _Thanks to ilovemanicures (your review was so motivational for me and such an upper, thank you so much!), AnzuFan, Soularia Reed (for miraculously handling my wayward thoughts, rants and random brainstorm chaos), anonymous, jnpg, dragonlady222, Dakuwan, Kiki2222 and manga-animelove (this one was an additional upper for me that brought a big smile and a kick in the ass to get this damn chapter going….even though it still took a while ^^;) for all your wonderful reviews that really are the things that pushes me through the writers blocks and bring a smile to my face. Thank you so very very much! I hope that you all enjoy this chapter as much as I did writing it! :D (ok *shifts eyes* it really wasn't that fun but we will go with it.)_

_And…..I am really really really really sorry for how long this update has taken me to write, I have been busy with work, with getting my EMR certification (by the way, PASSED BABY!...now it's time to apply for school), moving to a new place and getting it unpacked and to my liking, I had no Microsoft office for over a month and as mentioned getting ready for school applications and going through all the fun that comes with that. Also, I had this chapter finished on the 12__th__ originally, but something bizzare happened and I lost it…..even though I saved it….my boyfriend and I have scoured this accursed computer all the other devices that it was on and nothing…it was completely gone and I lost a lot of hope in this story. I had, until today, this overwhelming feeling that no matter how hard I work and how hard I tried to improve my writing was not good enough to tell this story. I hope, that, either I can prove myself wrong by finishing this or that somehow I will be convinced otherwise. _

_So please, bear with me. Don't worry; I will never give up on finishing this story. This story is a huge goal for me, I have not been able to complete a story since I believe it was the sequel to Vindictiveness (ie. 3-4 fanfics have gone unfinished) and I have not yet finished the novel that I started when I was fourteen….in fact, it's been re-started four times (only one of which was my choosing, the rest were computer issues.) So, if that is any consolation, I will finish this, just be patient and please don't throw tomatoes at me, they are a most wonderful thing and I will cry if they are damaged.)So do not fear, (Though I doubt anyone is in love with this story enough to be) I will complete it!_

**CHAPTER EIGHTTEEN**

_Hour Nine – 3:47pm – January 21__st _

Glancing at his watch Bakura held back a scowl, gaze averting to Soren's sleeping form on his desk. Beside him Grey quietly placed the three coffees that they had grabbed down on his desk, trying not to disturbed the sleeping beauty. Bakura's scowl deepened as he took a good look Soren, he was pale as a cadaver and his eyes were dark and deeply sunken. Deciding not to wake him Bakura pulled an extra chair from a nearby desk up to Grey's. Taking his coffee from the cardboard tray he leaned back in his chair and stared hard up at the massive map of Calgary they had posted on the wall between their desks. Grey was already removing old coloured tacks that they had used from their recent cases during the silence of the past month, pilling them in his hand for immediate use. Rapidly Grey went about putting new markers into the map, adding in the total victims, addresses recently obtained – Alphonse's house, Alicia's body and the address on the note, and the addresses of where Alphonse had tracked or attacked Yami that they were aware of.

Stepping back and crossing his arms Grey pursed his lip, one finger pressing against them in thought, "Well, I was hoping that it would give a giant red flag or finger pointing right to where they are," he said dryly, his attempt at humour falling short.

"God damn, that is a lot of paper work," commented Gerald Anderson, a detective with the missing persons department, his sudden appearance startling Grey. He leaned on the door to the office, a coffee in hand. "Think you have enough there?" a slight smirk appeared on his face, then disappeared just as quick. "Any luck finding Garret's boy?"

Bakura shook his head, deigning to remain silent, his attention focused solely on the map.

"I know how much the boy means to you, Bakura. If I can do anything, be an extra set of eyes or something. It can be rather hard sometimes to work within the restrictions we have set for us. Twenty-four hours is too long, sometimes," Anderson stated pointedly.

A nod was the only real response he received from the detective, but Grey piped up, "So, you know the brat too eh?"

"In the tri-services who doesn't?" Anderson smiled, "I remember when he was 10 or so, Garrett brought him in after school during one of my first shifts in the gang unit. I had just pulled a sixteen hour night shift, then started at eight am on the new position. Fell asleep at my desk, and the little bugger stole my gun! I was going to thrash him, little bastard pissed me off at the wrong time of day. Garrett stepped in though with that grin of his, told me it was my fault for sleeping, and turned it into a lesson about gangs." He sighed and stood beside Bakura, staring at the map, but still talking to Grey. "We turned it into a game, Yami and I, and we still do it every time we run into each other, childish but its habit now. I would pretend to sleep, he would try and steal my gun, keys, ID, whatever. It's evolved to more elaborate pick-pocket tricks and mind games as he got older. It kept me alert, and it saved my life, twice. I learned how to sleep with my hand on my gun."

"Wow," was all that Grey could get out, expression full of awe but not completely surprised.

Bakura finally looked over at his fellow detective and acknowledged him, russet gaze locking on him, "I'll let you know, thanks," Bakura stood at the map, a distant look in his eyes. Anderson turned to leave, the door shutting silently behind him. A few moments later, without a word or even a blink, Bakura followed.

Brow furrowing in confusion Grey stared at the now closed door and the feeling of dislocation from the situation sunk in. "The hell is he doing," he murmured aloud, discarding the idea of following, if Bakura had wanted him there he would have let him know. Hearing a groan he shifted his attention to Soren, whom was rubbing his eyes and stifling a yawn. "Morning princess."

Expression almost a snarl, Soren sleepily stretched, "Funny," he grumbled. "Where'd Bakura just disappear to?"

Crossing his arms and leaning against the desk, Grey inclined his head towards the recently closed door, "Anderson's office."

Bemused Soren lethargically rose from the chairs and continued stretching, "Why? Isn't he in the missing person's unit."

"To hell if I know," Grey shrugged, his own bewildered look not helping Soren's own state. "We'll find out eventually."

"Comforting," Soren snorted, taking the remaining coffee cup from the tray and chugged back half of it. Done guzzling Soren inspected the nearby vicinity, disappointment immediately crossing his features, "No food?"

Unable to hold back a smile Grey shook his head, "Sorry, didn't think about that." Receiving a dismissive wave for answer the detective's expression turned serious. "How are you holding up, the cat nap help at all?"

Absently Soren shook his head, eyes becoming unfocused, "It's obviously not a bad dream like I was hopping," voice sardonic, a tone Grey never expected to hear from him. "So, what that in mind, no, status is the same. Badly want to hit something and want to scream at the same time. It's fucking fantastic. Did you two find anything that will help us find him?"

Seeing the desperate glint in Soren's eyes Grey exhaled stiffly, "Alphonse abandoned the rig and stole a car to transport him. We know the general direction he left in but that doesn't help us, a witness watched Alphonse put Yami in the back of his car and leave, but did not report it until we arrived. Yami has nothing on him, no boots, no jacket, no socks, and not the EMS top so he has nothing distinguishing him to laymen people. All in all, aside from sending out a bulletin to watch for the stolen car, we've got nothing until forensics calls us back with any results, but that might not be until late tomorrow." Grey's heart sank at the instant transition of hopeful and desperate in Soren's face, to desolate. "We'll figure it out Soren, we have to."

Wry half smile crossing his lips the EMT slowly shook his head, "It's been over nine hours Grey," lifting dark green eyes to the detective, he clenched his fists. "We have find him soon or we are not finding him alive."

Swallowing hard Grey grunted in agreement, "Or at least not in good condition. Alphonse will want to toy with him, this is something he has probably been fantasizing about for the last month. He's going to savour this, and he is going to slowly torture him to death. I think that we've got another five maximum ten hours before Yami will be beyond any advanced medical help. As terrible as it sounds." Soren, eyes focused on the ground and hands covering his face, gave a small noise of agreement. "We need to haul ass and find whatever Alphonse's fuck up is that will lead us to where he has him."

"Just the thought of any of this right now is making me sick," Soren said coarsely, voice dry.

Grey was interrupted from responding as the office door opened and Bakura emerged with a sudden devious glint to his eyes. Unsettled, both Grey and Soren watched in stunned confusion as Bakura gathered up his jacket and began carefully pulling the map from the wall, careful not to dislodge any of the coloured pins. As the detective gingerly rolled up the map Grey piped up bluntly, "What the fuck are you doing?"

Looking up Bakura nonchalantly shrugged, "Going home, we are off the case. Chief just approved it." Immediately Bakura, with slight amusement, could see the transition of shifting emotions in his friends eyes as his statement hit home. First stunned, then murderous, then a rapid tilt back to consternation. "I will explain when we get to my place. Pick up your damn jaws and help me move this shit to the car," he said signalling to the few boxes of the Caduceus case files on the desk.

Finding his vocal cords Soren blurted out in near hysterics, "What the fuck do you mean…you pulled off the case and just gave it to someone else? You drop a bomb like that and expect the aftershock to wait. Give me some answers as to why we are suddenly abandoning Yami!" Green eyes taking on a feverish hue as he glared hard at Bakura. "Do you even care what is going to happen to him?"

Not letting the comment hit home Bakura responded in cold calculated words, "I said I will explain it when we get to my place, don't like it then suck it up and get the fuck home."

Heart and lungs racing, in heated silence Soren grabbed one of the boxes and tramped noisily down the stairs. Keeping his mouth in check while his thoughts free flowed, _he better have a damn good reason for tucking tail out of this or I will shatter every bone in his face._ The concept of the rarity of the dark thoughts not even crossing his mind.

Picking up the remaining gear Grey and Bakura followed the EMT down to the parking lot. With a sidelong glance Grey stated sharply, "There had better be some logic behind this single minded decision. We are partners Bakura, decisions are supposed to be made as a team, not as separate individuals."

Dodging the fire again Bakura shrugged, "There is, and it's a choice you will like. Let's leave it at that."

Unwillingly accepting the silence Grey gave a curt nod of resignation.

* * *

It was the jarring motion that woke him up, consciousness coming slowly and grudgingly. The pain flared in his side, ribs were definitely broken, and his head throbbed relentlessly. There was a dull ache in his leg, but otherwise, he thought, he seemed to be fine. Wiggle toes, wiggle fingers. He could move everything, the numbness from near hypothermia and being tightly bound had diminished. The raspy breathing of his captor was close, and he could feel the heat of his body and smell his sour breath.

_I'm being carried_, he thought, trying not to make it too obvious that he was awake. Alphonse had him in a stable front carry, one arm hooked under his knees and the other around his shoulder, his head resting against straining pectoral muscles. This could be a chance to escape, to get out of here. It would have to be sudden, quick, no second thought and no turning back. He knew from the last time that his movements were sluggish and full of pain, but that was not going to stop him. He would have to time it right. And the time was, now!

Like a cat Yami spun in his abductors arms, shifting his weight so that he could fall to the floor. He lashed out as he fell, throwing an ineffectual punch to the abdomen of his opponent, before he landed on his side. Pain blossomed across his chest, but he managed to roll away before Alphonse could grab at him again. Unsteady, he regained his feet and raised his hands defensively, but it was a moment too late before a meaty fist took him full on in the side of the head. There was blood, pain, and concrete. Breath heaving in tight bursts he forced himself to his feet. All that mattered was escaping, he had to try. As fast as he could, he forced his feet to move and began to run. Three steps, four, and there was the falling sensation again, this arms around his waist in a hard tackle, his head and forearms smacking on the floor. The ragged rage filled breath of Alphonse on his back was all he could hear, the fear the sound created spurred hum out of the brief daze the fall had caused. Viciously Yami kicked out with a bare foot and was rewarded with a pained grunt and Alphonse rearing up as his foot connected with the man's hip, and he was up again. Squirming out from under his attacker he scrambled to his feet and stumble forward.

No running this time, that did not work; he would have to take Alphonse out before he would be able to get away. A feat in and of itself considering his condition, breath ragged and strained and his body pulsating with agony. But, he would be damned if he did not go down without a fight. Pressing his back up against the crate he stumbled up tio he lifted his arms to block his face. Another meaty fist came toward his head, but Yami managed to dodge backward, before rocketing forward and returning the punch. It landed, and he heard Alphonse swear, but Yami knew right away that it lacked his normal power. He followed it up with a kick, but his eyes filled with pain as his opponent caught the leg and brought an elbow down onto fresh bruises. He grimaced and grit his teeth, but managed to recover, bringing his head to bear on the situation. It was not how he would normally use his head in this kind of scenario, especially with the severity of his concussion, but the bright blood that his headbutt brought forth was reward enough. Alphonse dropped Yami's leg and bent over, hands instinctively suppressing the bleeding. Balling his hands into a club he rammed them down on Alphonse's lowered head and sent the man crashing to the floor with a pained and frustrated yell. The instinct to run hit Yami again, and he bolted around the crate towards the edge of the building where he remembered seeing windows earlier.

Exhaustion careened into him with that force of an out of control freight train off its tracks, adrenaline seeping from his limbs as rapidly as it had flooded them. He nearly collapsed, hand snapping out he braced himself against a nearby crate, learning all his weight against it. Inhaling sharply, lungs filling with stale but welcomed hair, he forced his world to stop spinning. Reflexively his chest tightened as Alphonse let out an angered yell from behind him, the outburst spurred him on, along with the growl of frustration the man emitted thereafter. Shoving away from the crate, coordination shot as he had to concentrate completely on firmly placing his feet on the ground, he barrelled towards the side of the building.

He was barely paying attention to his surrounding, nearly cashing into an upturned table he forced himself to look around as he staggered forward, feet barely moving. Above him he caught sight of the track line, old metal hooks still stained hung from them and disappeared off into the darkness of the building. Glancing back behind him he connected the train line with the one that went above the location he had been held captive at. Taking it as a good direction tool he forced he followed it, sounds echoing behind him as his captor began to regain his bearings.

Following the track line for a few minutes he finally stumbled out into an open area beyond the many crates he had been weaving around. A bitter winter breeze cascaded over him, chilling him to the bone, along with a small sliver of light piercing through the gloom. Squinting he absorbed the area around him. Through the light he could see the ban saw that used to be used to split the blood drained livestock in half. The rank odour of old blood and eviscerated organs overwhelmed him where he stood, it was far stronger here than it had been where he was. Dark splotches on the floor indicated stains from said bodily fluids, not cleaned from when the building was abandoned. Averting he looked to the east, towards the light illuminating the area.

Dismay enveloped him before hope could seize hold of him. A set of double doors lay but twenty feet away from him, the brightness of the sun reflected off the snow creating the overwhelming luminosity. It shone through the split between the frozen doors, ice encasing the bottom and blocking more snow from tricking in and covering the floor. The object of his desolation was the chains wrapped around the door hands and secured with not one but three high strength pad locks.

Collapsing to his knees he felt the cold sting of water encompass his knees as he dropped into a large puddle of water, arms snapping out he caught himself from completely falling. Shaking, not only from cold but from holding back tears he wrenched his gaze away and began to frantically search the immediate area, there had to be something else. Twenty to thirty feet in the opposite direction he could see the stairs that he remembered seeing earlier, the ones that lead up to the perimeter balcony and the closed rooms. Swallowing hard he rocked back onto the balls of his feet, barely balancing, and staggered to his feet. His one single article of clothing, his work pants, were not soaked with bitter cold water and it was rapidly beginning to drop his core temperature. Wrapping his arms around himself he took the first step towards the stairs when the rapid succession of hard footfalls stopped his heart and made him swing around.

Alphonse was on him faster than he could blink, eyes dark with anger and a crowbar rose above his head ready to slam it into him. His only reaction was to drop back down to his knees, the wind of the crowbar swinging past his head as he descended made his heartbeat return. With his bare feet he kicked out at Alphonse's shin, knocking his one knee out and forcing his captor to drop down to his level. Not knowing where the sudden adrenalin surge came from he thanked whoever was watching over him and using that energy rose up on his knees and landed a right hook up into Alphonse's chin, barely shoving the man to his side, crowbar clanging boisterously as it hit the concrete.

The hit did not have the desired strength and Alphonse caught himself before he teetered over, using the arm he used to catch himself as leverage he launched forward and spinning Yami on his knees wrapped his on arm around the young man neck. Squeezing almost mercilessly he could feel the energy drain from the young man, smirking he shifted slightly and retrieved the crowbar from the ground. Shoving Yami harshly forward he watched with a smile as Yami landed hard, but managed with meagre effort to turn himself around, breathing heavy and ragged. Raising the crowbar again he almost whispered, "Time to play."

Yami was barely able to lift his arm in defense before the crowbar returned him to blackness.


	19. Chapter 19

**SILHOUETTE**

**A/N:** _Thanks to ilovemanicures (thank you so much for the motivational and inspirational review! It's definitely a kick in the ass, lol.), manga-animelove (thank you as well for the awesome review, it means a lot to me), yami-yasi, dragonlady222 _

**CHAPTER NINETEEN**

_Hour Ten – 5:00pm – January 21__st _

Dancing flames licked up the side of the stone fireplace, their greed for more fuel turning to dismay, as they could not find more and their burning digits fell short. Their struggle, what could be almost viewed as a dance, reflected in the eyes of the two occupants of the room. Mike's eyes were distant, thoughts glazing them over as one hand tightly gripped the handheld phone and the other becoming cold along with the tea within the cup he held. Reno was lying by the front door, ears perked as he stared out the window in the light snowfall, waiting patiently but a clear worry etched in the dog's demeanor. Glancing at the clock then at Reno Mike snapped himself from his thoughts, feeling the cold mug in his hand he sighed and got off the couch, lethargically making his way to the kitchen. Shoving the mug into the microwave he punched in the time needed and hit the start button. Exhaling stiffly he turned and leaned back against the counter, peering out the large bay window that was beside the front door he gazed out onto the porch. Reno had looked back at him, a small whimper emitting from him before he turned back and continued his watch.

He had not heard from Bakura for hours, not since he had left for the missing persons case Grey had arrived with, that was almost nine hours ago. Neither had he heard from Yami for the ride he needed. A few times throughout the last few hours he had dozed off for several minutes at a time, but he had yet to actually go to sleep. He could feel the exhaustion flooding through him, the liquid heavy as molasses and weighing his limbs down. Reno was in much the same condition he guessed, the dog had barely moved from the front window and any time Mike looked at him he was still alert. That was his third hint that something was not right, the other two was the weird foreboding sensation he had when Yami called earlier, and the second was the fact that he had heard from neither Yami nor Bakura for hours. Tapping his digits on the counter he nearly jumped and his train of thought was scattered when the microwave beeped signalling that his coffee was re-heated. Grumbling he pulled it out of the microwave and returned his gaze back out the window, "Damn kids, making me worry."

Through the light of the setting sun outside Mike caught the brief sight of what looked like headlight pulling up into the driveway. Reno's interest was piqued, his ears were perked and a loud whine emitted from him. Hearing the garage door open confirmed that Mike was not delusional, Bakura at the very least was home. Instantly raised voices reached his ears, Bakura instantly recognizable among them, along with Grey and Soren's. Eye brows rising in confusion Mike remained where he was and silent as the door into the house opened and the three men entered, both oblivious to his presence and probably to the boisterousness level of their voices.

"Alright Bakura, we are finally at your damn house, cough up your fucking reason, and for your sake I hope it's a good one!" Soren stated fervently, kicking off his shoes and carrying the box in his arms over to the couch.

Dropping his own box on the coffee table Bakura glared over at Soren, "Un-tighten those panties of yours," he snapped, absently looking at Grey as his partner put the other remaining objects of the case files down beside everything else. "Anderson made a point, a damn good one, and I followed through with the offer."

"Said offer I was asleep for!"

"Calm down Soren," Grey said calmly, cringing at the sharp look the young EMT sent in his direction. "Just, hear him out, I'd love to know what is going on just as much as you do, but being hot headed about it won't make it happen faster."

Holding up his hands in a submissive, but not very willing, manner Soren stared at them expectantly.

Clearing his throat Mike grabbed all of their attention, if exhaustion and worry was not overwhelming him he would have been amused by the startled reaction he received from the three men. "I'd love to know what is going on as well, especially since I don't know a thing about what you three know about, so finding out all of this would be wonderful, please continue."

All three simultaneously slouched in melancholy, seeing this Mike felt his heart sink. "Where's Yami?"

"We don't know," Bakura answered quietly and as gently as he could. "Last time he was seen was ten hours ago being removed from an abandoned ambulance and shoved into a stolen car by Alphonse."

Eye brows soaring high in stunned reaction, Mike had to grab hold of the island counter in front of him, "Say what?"

"You remember the case we were put on this morning," receiving a quiet stiff nod from Mike, Grey continued. "It was Yami that was in that ambulance that disappear. The ambulance was found abandoned not far from the incident with the Bow building downtown. When we got to the location, not only did we receive a call from Soren telling us that the ambulance we found was the one Yami was sleeping in, we also found out that Alphonse was at the Bow incident and had taken off in said ambulance, and lastly a witness reported watching Alphonse remove Yami from the rig, steal his car, and drive off."

Shakily coming around the island and taking a seat on the couch beside Soren, Mike glared hard between the three men, "If that is the case you are working on, then why are you here?" His question receive a guilty expression from Grey, pissed off one from Soren and Bakura's somewhat smug smile. Seeing his nephew's trade mark grin he leaned forward. "Pray tell what are you planning brat."

Sitting back and crossing his arms, the detective glanced between the three men around him, "Like I said, Anderson made a good point. His point, for explanative purposes, was that us being on the case restricts us from doing anything for the next," pausing he glanced at his watch. "Fourteen hours. Whereas pulling off the case, and working on specifically finding Alphonse with the Caduceus case, we have no restrictions."

Understanding dawning on their faces Grey, Soren and Mike bobbed their heads in agreement. Heaving a sigh of relief Soren murmured out, "Sorry for ripping your head off Kura'." Bakura just shrugged and smiled more. "So what's the plan then, since we're here?"

Hands clapping together deviously he leaned forward, "We are going to rip this case apart. Alphonse is far from perfect, he fucked up somewhere and we are going to find it, starting off with everything we have on this case. Can we clear this area up and have it open; we need to be able to spread all these files out. Grey, can you re-lay out that map of Calgary we have with all the pins in it. Soren, can you and Mike shove to coffee tables and end tables somewhere, and I'll move the sectional over." Standing up he almost stumbled over a heavy furry object, grunting he glared down at Reno whom was sitting in front of him, a low whine emitting from his throat. Oddly, and expectantly, Bakura felt his heart wrench at the sound. Reaching out he stroked the dog's head with surprising affection that had the other men in the room raising their eye brows in bewilderment. "Mike, where did Yami shove all of Reno's bedding the other night, and his bones?"

Confused Mike pointed to the basement door, "Through the wash, they should be in the dryer now, and the bones are in his room. Why?"

Snapping his fingers Soren called the dog over, immediately Reno was up on the couch and in his lap, "You've noticed it probably Mike, he can tell something's wrong with Yami, he'll need his comfort items or he will drive us insane. Believe me."

Quirking a brow Mike stood up and made his way to the basement door, "He's just been sitting staring out the window for the past ten hours, what more can he do, he's not in the way that way."

Lifting his gaze, expression flat and eyes serious, Soren expounded, "He's going to start getting antsy, he knows something is wrong, and he knows it's Yami that in trouble. Animals have an eerily acute way of sensing these things." Mike shrugged in compliance and headed down into the basement to the retrieve the items.

For the next ten minutes every one dispersed and cleared out the living room area making it a flat open space. Bakura and Grey started pulling everything out of the files and boxes and sorting it between four separate piles for each individual to work on. Meanwhile, Mike went about ordering food and starting up another pot of coffee while Soren took Reno for a quick run before settling the dog in his bed and shoving a bone at his face. Fresh coffee cups loaded on a tray along with milk and sugar, Mike meandered into the living room and sat down at the open spot, Grey helping him carefully lower the tray as he did so.

Once everyone was settled at a pile of work Bakura signalled for them all to lean in and he began explaining the map, "All of the tacks in red are locations where he killed someone, each one of those has a number labelled to it explaining who was killed there and what order they were in on Alphonse's list. Now, these tacks with the red also have three other specified ones with a letter labelled to them. Those ones are locations where Alphonse killed someone not on his list, example, his wife, the four thugs, the police officers. The orange tack signals the hotel location where Yami and Soren first encountered Alphonse. The black tack signals Yami's old house where Garret was murdered and Yami was attacked for the first time. The blue tack is the location where Alphonse tried to drag Yami to from The Rusty Cage, the yellow is my place where Alphonse has both stalked and attacked Yami. All the green tacks are locations where Alphonse has stalked Yami…"

"Wait wait wait," Soren suddenly interjected loudly, gaining a glare from Bakura and a puzzled look from everyone else. "No, I'm not confused," he retorted angrily. "There's something I don't think Yami mentioned seeing as those locations are not on here."

"I'm listening," Bakura murmured intently, seeming skeptical.

"Right after the incident at the hotel," Soren began, shifting forward and pressing his finger against two new locations on the map. "That one shift him and I worked afterwards we went to these two locations. At these two places, the hospital and the coffee shop, we saw a heavily covered up man creeping on us. Basically, he was so well covered that you could not tell who he was, but looking back on it he had Alphonse's exact build and way of carrying himself. He was pretty intently watching Yami, I'm absolutely positive that was Alphonse."

Scowling Grey demanded, "Why didn't you tell us this before?"

Soren sighed, watching Bakura grab two more green tacks and added those new locations in, "I was hoping Yami would talk to you two about it. Apparently I was hoping for too much."

"Damn bastard and his stubborn pride," Bakura inwardly cursed, grabbing his coffee up and draining half of it before continuing. "Oh well, those two locations are something to start with but are not locations Alphonse would go to with him, too public."

"Here's a thought, probably an already thought of one, but a thought," un-folding his legs from under him and stretching them out, coffee cup in lap and back against the edge of the sectional Grey pondered aloud. "Where ever he has taken Yami is either a location he has already been to, for comfort reasons. Or, is heavily sound proofed, abandoned, or somewhat distant from anything. As gruesome as this will sound, he doesn't want what he is doing to Yami to be seen or heard. And, let's be honest, whatever it is that he is doing, it not pleasant and not easily hidden. So it definitely needs to be something very secluded, un-watch, abandoned or in a neighbourhood where no one reports those sorts of activities."

Bobbing his head Mike crossed his arms, "That reduces the search radius a little bit."

"Agreed, Calgary may be a big city, but it's not filled with a lot of locations like that," Bakura added, fingers drumming on the floor in thought. "Soren, do you mind looking on the internet and looking up locations throughout Calgary that match that criteria. If you don't find much, Grey and I will switch you and we will contact the head office and do some extensive digging. Otherwise, let's sort through these massive amounts of date and see if we find anything else. Does that work?" Glancing around at the party he gained no notions towards disagreement. "Good, let's haul ass."

* * *

_Hour Sixteen – 11:00pm – January 21__st _

The sun had finally disappeared allowing the moon to dominate the night time sky. Fireplace still raging cast light into the room, along with the few lamps that were turned on. Light drifted across the accumulated piles of paper work, evidence photos, notes and other miscellaneous items from the case, along with a multitude of half-finished pizza crusts and the discarded boxes they once belonged to off to the side. The food, aside from the few forgotten crusts, was all but devoured, and the third pot of coffee was out and being poured by Soren's no longer steady hands. Caffeine high and over exhaustion was keeping him alert, but his body was showing the signs of depravity. Grey, the one he was now pour the coffee for, reached out and with his own still calm digits, steadied Soren by gently gripping his one wrist with one hand and the coffee cup with the other.

"Hanging in there?" He questioned gently, Soren sitting down quietly beside him.

"Kind of, I'll be honest I have no idea how the hell I am still awake," suppressing a yawn and stretching Soren took his own cup of caffeinated happiness and drank it back. "If I pass out, please poke me."

Not suppressing a smile Grey nodded in acquiescence, "Sure, though I think Kura' will enjoy that more than me."

Piping in, the white haired man grinned, "Oh definitely. Soren, if you need a nap go lay down, you're the one that's been the most ran ragged out of all of us." Gaining a stiff refusal Bakura scowled. "Don't overdo it, he needs you."

"Yeah, and that's why I am chugging back this pot of coffee and going cross eyed," he said, his nonchalant and whimsical grin crossing his features before returning to serious. "We've got nothing do we?"

A defeated sigh echoed through the room from the other three occupants. Reaching out to the files of forensic work he had been sifting through Grey leaned back against the sectional, "He left nothing at any of the scenes, the only thing that has not been DNA analyzed yet is hair found at all the locations, but they have to sift through and figure out which ones belong to the victims, their families, their animals and then they can focus on the extra ones. But, that is a ridiculously tedious process that will take at least another month for them to finish. All the footprints found didn't really turn up much until we raided Alphonse's house, and even then whatever pair of shoes he used in the murders he kept with him, all we were able to match was shoe size. All the clothes he wore to the murders he probably also has as well to keep them safe, if we get those we will be golden.

"The trophies vanished from the house, all we have is the empty jars. Because of the chemical used, there isn't any DNA that can be traced back to any of the victims, except one. It looks like he pulled one out rather hastily and a DNA match was confirmed a few days ago that was a match to one of the surgical nurses. Otherwise, really, he was a ghost."

Taking a large swig of coffee Soren picked up all the pictures of houses and buildings he had printed off the internet and scanned over them, along with outside scene photos of the crimes, "Most of the abandoned buildings that I could find probably are not abandoned. Most of them are in forest lawn or downtown, all locations where either a gang has probably taken refuge in it, or the homeless has claimed it, or its wide open and completely viewable from all angles. I doubt that he will re-use any of the previous locations because most of them had someone else living in the house, so he would have to go through the lengths of killing someone else and hiding it well and carrying in a limp body in a residential area. Not bloody likely."

Mike rubbed his neck then scrubbed at the top of his head, blonde hair bright in the light from the fire, "Really, the only thing that stands out to me from all the notes and the evidence is that note that Alicia had on her body. Otherwise, it's a pretty sound case and you guys have him hooked, but I can't find any hints in all these notes towards where he might have gone."

Soren glanced at Bakura, leaning forward towards the detective and meeting russet eyes head on, "What did head office find for possible buildings?"

Shuffling rather recklessly through the massive pile of papers found the one that had been faxed to them earlier, absently swatting Reno away from the pizza beside him he read through the list, "There is a bunch of stores that have been abandoned and waiting for a new leaser, but most of those ones are open and full glass front. There is an abandoned office building on 16th Ave by the university that just got bought by another company, the company will apparently be starting renovations in the next few months, but otherwise there is nothing going on in there. Um," flipping the paper around he plucked the pizza from the floor and shoved it into his mouth, speaking between mouthfuls. "There is another recently vacated house down in Kincora, it was a drug house that was just gutted and the city is just waiting for the go ahead to either tear it down or hand it over to someone willing to fix it up. Lastly, there is the slaughter house down on Heritage…."

Silence dawn on all of them, all four men exchanged thoughtful glances before the scramble began. "Mike," Bakura nearly barked, "What was the address of the place that Alphonse tried to drag Yami to?"

"That abandoned slaughter house right beside Heritage park, down on the edge of the Glenmore reservoir. It was right beside Gasoline Alley, well, the shop at least," Mike stated, pointing it out on the map.

"And the address that was on the note Alicia had on her body?" Grey pressed.

Mike tapped again on the same location on the map, "The slaughter house."

Soren instantly became pale, hope still in his eyes but his imagination began to run wild, "That….is fucking sick!"

Sighing with unease Grey locked gazes with Bakura, both thinking the same thing, "It makes sense, in a twisted sick way, but it makes sense. It is where he already tried to take him and did not succeed. It is abandoned, the park is not open right now so he won't have to worry about anyone hearing anything, never mind seeing the car he stole. Here's his fuck up, he went back to same location…"

"Dammit! Why did we not see this before," Bakura yelled, snapping to his feet and to the cell phone he had left on the counter. "Fuck, it was so easy, dammit dammit dammit!" The detective almost jumped out of his skin as the phone rang the instant he picked it up from the counter. Yelping, and almost dropping it, he raised it to his ear not looking at the caller display. "What!"

"_Holy, hello_," came Anderson's voice from the other end.

Bakura held his hand up for silence as the others in the room began to scramble upright, all recognizing the voice from where they were; even Reno had sat up from his bed. "Speak of the devil; I was just about to call you."

"_Creepy, anyway I've got news for you. The stolen car has been found, one of the patrol cars spotted it out by that creepy building at Heritage Park_."

Brows raising in stunned reaction Bakura managed to respond, "That's the place that we just came to the conclusion that he would be at. The patrol car has not gone in there right?"

"_Oh hell no, I told them to stand down and just look around the outside_," Anderson scoffed, over his voice some extensive static could be heard, something similar to a radio. "_Hold on Bakura, they're radioing right now with a report. I'll put you on speaker_." Doing the same Bakura rested the phone on the counter so all could hear, regret and fear setting hard in his belly as the radio call broke over them.

"_Someone's screaming inside the building, we need all available units to Heritage Park ASAP! We're going in_!"

Scrambling could be heard as Anderson struggled to grab the radio, "_Stand down Hodge, wait till back up arrives, if it is who we think it is we don't stand a chance fighting him in his own territory. Stand down_!"

"_Hell no, whatever is going on in there sounds down right fucking sick! We're going in, will radio you back in a minute, over and out_."

"_Dammit Hodge, stand down. Hodge_?" Screamed Anderson, the pitch almost high enough to match that of nails on a chalk board. More scrambling could be heard, all four men leaned closer to the phone, none had yet to even glance at each other. "_Bakura, get your ass down to that location. I will meet you there and get the TACT unit ready and there as fast as I can. Stop those fucking idiots from botching this and getting Yami killed_."

"Alright, I'll radio you when we get there," closing the phone Bakura turned. "Grey, grad your shit lets go!"

"I'm coming with you!" Soren protested, shoving off the restraining hand Mike put on his shoulder. Seeing the incredulous expression Grey and Bakura were giving him he snapped. "I'm the only one of us that if shit hits the fan can do any medical assistance to Yami. Dammit I'm coming whether you want me to or not."

Bakura, caught between a rock and a hard place, growled in resignation, "Only because I don't have time to argue about this. There is a Kevlar vest in the trunk, put it on and don't argue!" Soren nodded in understanding and bolted to the door behind Grey. Bakura averted to Mike, catching the concerned look on his uncles face. "Stay here, I'll keep you posted as fast and often as I can. I promise."

Reaching out Mike gripped both of Bakura's shoulders tightly, staring hard into his nephews eyes, "Don't you dare come home to me with either of you in a black bag," with that he shoved Bakura towards the door. "And don't argue brat, I won't take any excuses for an answer." Swallowing hard, emotions welling within him, Bakura shakily nodded before turning and sprinting after Grey and Soren, stumbling into his shoes and barely getting his jacket on as he went.

Striding up to the front window as the sound of the garage door opening rang out, Mike watched as the car sped off, red and blue lights flashing and sirens blaring. Exhaling a near pained breath, he bit his lip, "Where's my whiskey when I need it," he grunted.

* * *

He could feel it, it was the first thing he felt and once that happened it was the only thing he could feel. White-hot agony shot through him, mostly up his left arm, through his neck and settling hard in his shoulder joint. A breathless gasp left his lips, eyes shooting open. The jerking motion brought into reality his position. Blearily he gazed down at his lap, several wheezing breaths later his vision finally focused enough that he could see. A belt strapped his legs down to the chair he was seated in, another one was wrapped around his diaphragm, two held his ankles firmly against the chair legs. He could tell that his one arm was strapped to the back of the chair, painfully hooked through the slits in the back and held there with a bruising grip, the leather belt cutting skin.

Unable to pull his attention away Yami bit his lip and closed his eyes, holding back any sounds hinting towards the intense amount of pain that was pulsing through him. Flashbacks ran through his mind, the raised crow bar crashing down towards him, his arm lifting to block it, said arm he had yet to look at out of sheer fear of what it looked like. It was his dominant hand, the digits would not move as he experimented, neither would the rest of the joints, all it caused was searing pain and a muffled cry. Breathing ragged and fast he willed up the courage to look at his left shoulder, nearly vomiting at the sight of it. His shoulder was completely out of socket, pulled tight, the limp joint wrapped at an uncanny angle around his back. It was black from bruises, the indent where the pointed end of the crowbar had impaled itself was thickly bandaged with gauze, but red liquid had still seeped through. Retching he tore his gaze away, coughing against the bile taste that rose in his throat. Breath catching in his lungs at the subtle tap that rested on his damaged shoulder, cold metal pushing through the pained sensations that were nearly overwhelming him. Muscles going rigid he was barely able to think before the voice whispered in his ear, warm breath filtering across his ear, moist and yet chilling. "You do realise, there is only skin holding your shoulder together. All I would have to do is cut it and it would fall off. Wouldn't that be something to see?"

Yami did not hear Alphonse behind him, had no inkling that he was there. Snapping his head to the side he stared with stunned fear into the demon green eyes that smiled at him. Breath hitching he felt his lungs expand and contract at an unhealthy speed, brain wrapping around the statement he opened his mouth to retort, when a hard fist pelted him across the face, knocking the wind out of him and cracking his jaw. Stunned he held back any pained noises and turned back to Alphonse, a small trickle of blood seeping from his mouth where he had bit down on the inside of his cheek. Alphonse was grinning at him, freezing his blood just with that single expression, "Speak again, move your mouth again other than to beg me for more, and I will snap your jaw out of its socket and cut it off your face," his voice a ghostly whisper, moving around front he crouched in front of Yami, relishing the unrestrained look of horror his comment caused in his prey. "Now that you are awake, shall we resume our fun? I do sincerely hope you scream for me this time like a good boy."

Unable to repress the shiver that ran through him Yami tried to firmly move himself as far from Alphonse as he could, plastering himself against the back of the chair. His mouth was locked firmly, both from being swollen and already bruised, but from believing the threat given to him. Alphonse shifted in front him, making himself comfortable and placing the knife on the floor. Reaching underneath the chair he pulled out a medical kit filled with gauze and towels, he could smell the bleach coming off them, freshly cleaned. Then, from close to his side, Alphonse pulled over a stainless steel rectangular bucket over, large tweezers ready to be used. Seemingly satisfied that everything was in place he reached into his pant pocket and pulled out a black permanent marker. Un-capping it he looked up at Yami, the young man paling at the sight of the marker knowing exactly what it meant. Resisting the urge to squirm Yami stilled the quivering in his body and stared down at his captor, the maniacal grin crossing Alphonse's features again. "Let's play our little game shall we, I did greatly miss it and could hardly wait till you woke to re-join it."

Inhaling sharply as the cold pen touched his very exposed legs was the first time Yami realised, even after looking earlier, that his pants were missing. Averting his gaze, he could see them folded neatly in a corner, a red object sticking from one of the pockets. The Swiss army knife, he felt his throat go dry at the teasing hope it gave him, hope that he forgot about the instant the pen began to move on him. Body tensing he watched Alphonse, with insane precision, draw out where each ligament was in his knee, along with the top and bottom of his patella and a dotted line that perfectly dissected the skin of his knee into quarters. He marked the same lines on the other knee, the im=ages the lines inflicted on Yami's imagination were driving him mad with fear.

Capping the pen Alphonse shoved it back into his pocket before settling completely on his knees, body steady. Leaning forward he folded his arms on Yami's lap and looked up at him, the mannerism in which he did it was childish, but frightening in the same token. It set Yami's nerves on fire, he wanted to struggle, kick, yell, anything that would get the man away from him. Alphonse being this close to him made him want to squirm, the eerie snake eyes locked on him and searching his face for his reactions and thoroughly enjoying the ones he was finding. He was having a hard time holding everything in check; he could feel his legs twitching against his control betraying his attempt at a stoic expression. Alphonse made a small-pleased sound in the back of his throat and sat back, seemingly satisfied with what he had seen. Picking up the scalpel from the ground he affectionately clean it off with one of the clean towels, he flicked his eyes up at Yami catching the unease it caused, "Time to play."

Yami swallowed hard, holding the breath in his lungs, eyes watching the blade slowly penetrate the skin at the top of his knee. Once deep enough Alphonse traced the scalpel vertically down over Yami's kneecap, a wad of gauze coming up to catch the cascading trickles of blood. Nearly chocking Yami closed his eyes, forcing himself not to watch, trying to concentrate on something else. The pain was excruciating, increasing as he felt Alphonse do the same incision horizontally. He could feel his body quivering, Alphonse's one hand holding his right leg steady to keep the lines perfect. Breathing becoming ragged, coming in and out rapidly through his nose as he tried to reduce the sound. Alphonse, delicately, using tweezers gripped the tip of one of the inner corners of the incision and began to slowly peel the skin away from the muscle. His strokes were smooth and delicate, no imperfections, his concentration not waning at the increase in shaking Yami's body was emitting. Unable to hold it Yami gasped out when Alphonse began to do it to the other top fold of the incision, crimson eyes snapping open and connecting with pleased electric green. A smirk crossed Alphonse's face, his one bloodied hand reaching up and gripping Yami's jaw purposefully, "Look away again, and I will remove your eyes from their socket, stitch them to your forehead and force you to participate in our little game."

Retching in disgust Yami could not hold back the violent shiver that ran through him, body tensing in fear. Clenching his jaw, he nodded in understanding, reluctantly focusing his gaze on his knee. A perfect cross incision was etched into his knee, the top half peeled up and the skin fastened there with surgical tape. The taste of bile returned to the back of his throat, swallowing the saliva in his mouth he tried to force it back down.

Smiling, an almost gentle expression Alphonse turned back to his work, calculating Yami's pain shivers with how he was detaching the remainder of the flesh from the kneecap. Gently mopping up the blood, he dropped the pieces of gauze into the steel bucket beside him. Turning back he used one of the towels to remove the remainder of the seeping blood, which was surprisingly little. He could hear Yami's ragged breathing and would hope and wait for some loss of composure on his captive's part to give him another pained sound. Cleaning off the scalpel, he continued his work, finding the white ligaments and pin pointing each one he taped each one with his blade, almost playing eenie meenie minie mo in his mind. Finally deciding he felt Yami tense under his digits; slipping the blade under the top of the ACL he flipped the sharp portion of the blade upward, seeing the paleness of Yami's skin, the thin layer of perspiration and the sheer look of panic in those wine coloured eyes he grinned wide. Jerking upward Alphonse severed the ligament with a loud snap.

Yami's jaw fell open, eyes going wide as the pain slapped him full force, his stomach turning violently. Gasping he held back a strangled cry, muffling the sound by biting his lip, the copper liquid calming him. He was shaking, the tremor in his body increasing. Unprepared he felt the blade shift under the bottom attachment for the ACL and yet again the overwhelming pain and the loud snap filled his senses. Again, the only thing keeping his scream in was the blood filling his mouth from biting down on his lip. A hard hand slapped him across the face again, the blood that had pooled in his mouth seeping out as the other side of his jaw was struck mercilessly. Alphonse was glaring at him when he looked back, the pain raging through his knee causing his vision to wane and blur.

"Watch, and do not suppress those sounds, I want to hear them!" The growl was low and menacing; much akin to the roar Yami had heard him emit earlier when he had his small escape attempt. Body going rigid Yami prepared himself, but nothing could prepare him. In rapid succession the other ligaments; PCL, LCL and MCL were severed, Yami gasping dryly in agony, the need to vomit and pass out overwhelming his senses. Alphonse did not look down from what he was doing; he locked his focal attention on Yami's face. He held Yami's leg in place, as there was no longer anything keeping the joint from swaying in bizzare directions on its own. The only two remaining things that were holding the joint together were the last portions of what he was to do, and he knew he would get a reaction from them. With no gentleness, he gripped the patella in his one hand and slashed the quadriceps tendon in a single stroke.

Whiteness clouded Yami's vision, eyes snapping shut. He could not hold it back, the dry guttural scream forcing its way from his throat and echoing in the warehouse. Gasping and hyperventilating he opened his eyes to the sound of soft singing, mouth going dry from the pain and shock, "Head and shoulders knees and toes, knees and toes, knees and toes. Head and shoulders, knees and toes, knees and toes." Quivering Yami struggled, his mind shattering as the mantra, in the soft and soothing yet sinister voice continued to sing to him. He could feel hot tears welling in his eyes from both the fear and agony. The intense pain forcing him rapidly into near unconsciousness as Alphonse, with the same finality and quickness cut the patellar tendon. Screaming again, the sound and force drying his throat and cracking his lips he let his chin rest against his chest, eyes watching in a fog as Alphonse pulled the patella away and discarded it into the steel bucket.

With an almost tenderness that Yami did not expect Alphonse packed his knee full of sterile gauze and slowly began to stitch the wound back together. Small pained gasped and groans were emitting from him, he no longer had the strength to hold any of it back. Still singing softly Alphonse finished the stitched and wrapped the knee tightly in a tensor bandage, barely noticing the blood that was already seeping through. He had done the entire thing without touching the femoral artery, something Yami was oddly thankful for and yet almost wished had transpired. He was shaking violently, as is from a violent fever and severe hypothermia. Perspiration thickly coated his skin, flesh that was now significantly pale and almost sickly.

Shuffling over Alphonse started the incision on the other knee, briefly breaking his song to murmur one demand, not once looking up at his barely conscious captive. "Do those delightful little screams again, I want to know that you are enjoying yourself as much as I am. Dire consequences will happen if you do not please me." Yami swallowed hard, the copper and bile tastes still strong in his mouth. Whimpering he tried to hold still as Alphonse carefully cut the cross-shaped incision again and began to peel away the flesh, taping it up as he had with the other knee. This time Yami screamed hoarsely when Alphonse began to cut the ligaments, this time he started with the MCL and LCL, making the other ligaments and the patella easier to access. Blackness was dotting his vision and he began to sway in faintness, his eyes slowly beginning to close, the pain overpowering his senses.

A loud bang and the metallic clink of a chain toppling to the floor snapped Yami alert and Alphonse from grabbing the ACL ligament. Green eyes narrowing Alphonse rose to his feet before a sadistic grin crossed his features, glancing down at Yami he murmured, "I think some friends have decided to join us. I'll go greet them properly."

Jaw dropping Yami struggled, crying out as he jarred both knees and his shoulder. He could hear the distinct sound of men calling out, police officers he could guess. Tears streaming down his face he heard Alphonse pick something up from the ground nearby and walk off in the direction of the men, two by the sounds of the voices. Panicking Yami, with his back in the direction of the action, tried to yell out a warning but found he had no voice. Trembling he struggled fiercely against his binding, but with his injuries and lack of strength he got nowhere.

A blood-curdling scream sliced through the air, along with the echoing sound of a gunshot, a hard blow, and a body hitting the floor. Freezing Yami tried to look back over his shoulder; he could hear the yelling of the other man coming closer to him, the rushed footsteps and heavy breathing. A young police office stumbled into his area, Yami could vaguely see him through the corner of his vision. The young man barrelled forward towards him and dropped down to his knees, "I'm here to help you, don't struggle; I'll get you out of here!" Yami shook his head at him, watching the blue-eyed blonde haired young man begin to fumble with his bindings, unbuckling the belts holding his legs to the chair. "I'm a police officer, I won't leave you here, trust me."

Through the corner of his vision Yami spotted Alphonse stalking towards them, his steps almost like that of a zombie or a drunken man, a devilish grin crossing his face. In his hand, was a bloody sledgehammer, thick amounts of blood and other matter dripping off it and spattering the floor. No words of warning could escape his lips as Alphonse brutally brought the sledgehammer down in a wide arch onto the young man's head with one hand. The velocity of the blow instantly splitting the top of the officer's skull, blood spattered onto Yami's face and chest, coating him. Jaw agape Yami watched Alphonse pull the near lifeless body off of his lap where the man's head had landed and rained to more hard one-handed blows into the skull, crushing it and allowing brain matter to decorate the floor along with thick red blood.

Alphonse turned to Yami, green eyes aglow, "Time to go now, our fun will have to continue somewhere else."

**A/N:** _And…hehehehe, the 'Fun begins' as Alphonse would put it. _


	20. Chapter 20

**SILHOUETTE**

**A/N:** _**Ok….I got really excited with the last chapter and didn't write an Authors note…..nor finish all my thank you's to all of you amazing fans that are still miraculously reading this story. Thank you so so so much!**_

_Thanks to pro-alipro, CrimsonSrawberry17, ilovemanicures, , dragonlady222, manga-animelove and Aurineko for reviewing. _

_Since I was unable to mention this in all the excitement, I have a new job as a oil field medic. What does this mean for all of you…..I have three weeks of working 16 hour shifts where I do fuck all but read and write and watch people work from my truck. Sound fantastic, I think so. So, that being said, the remaining 2-3 chapters should be out in no time, barring any stupidity. _

_Hope you all enjoy this chapter!_

**CHAPTER TWENTY**

_Hour 17 – 12:04 am – January 22__nd_

The screech of tires signaled the abrupt stop of the vehicle. Soren's hands shooting out and bracing himself against the impact was the only thing that saved him from a concussion. Bakura and Grey were already out of the vehicle, car doors slamming and the trunk being popped open. Orientating himself Soren staggered out of the car, absently grabbing the large first aid kit that was stored on the seat beside him. Closing the car door behind him he dashed around to the back of the car, watching Bakura and Grey load themselves with hand guns, their badges, Kevlar vests and ammo. He could feel his nerves racing just from watching them, turning his vision away he stared up at the building they were preparing to enter. He could see the one police vehicle parked in front of the open doors, along with the apparently stolen car off to the side of the building closest to him. Yami had described it pretty accurately to him, creepy and dark, like an immense old cabin tucked away into the woods. Feeling a hand on his shoulder he directed his attention back at the two detectives.

"Stay out here until we say otherwise. Watch the door, make sure Alphonse does not try and come out that way, if he does, yell for us. I will let you know when it is clear for you to come in and assist. Otherwise, wait for Anderson and the TACT unit to arrive. Got it," Bakura said forcefully, snapping the magazine into one of the guns and handing it to the EMT. Soren nodded stiffly, nervously sucking on his lip and flexing his grip on the first aid kit while taking the gun into his sweaty palm. "Can you use this?"

"Nope, but I'll figure it out if I have to, just pull the trigger right?" voice not masking his intense worry and nervousness, Bakura gave him a comforting squeeze on the shoulder. "Go get him, and don't come out with more than one patient, Yami will be enough to handle."

Shoving one of the glock's into the holster at his waist Grey managed a grin, "No guarantees. We are going in before back-up arrives I take it?"

Bakura nodded, russet orbs locked on the building, "Hell yeah, we can handle Alphonse long enough to distract him until Anderson and TACT arrives. We are a lot more cautious and trained then those other two were. I just hope they are recognizable when we find them."

Pulling out their flashlights in unison Bakura and Grey briefly lit up the area to get a better view of everything before turning the intensity of the flashlights down and moving to the open doors. Crouching down both checked their separate corners before signaling with their hands to go in, Grey quickly checking that Soren had not moved before going in. The street lights in the distance loosely illuminated the vehicle and Soren's silhouette standing by it. With that reassurance they turned off the flashlights and stepped fully into the warehouse.

Alphonse was frantically packing everything into duffle bags, all of the tools that he had used were already shoved in bags and had been transported somewhere outside. Yami, through his rapidly increasing delirium, watched him zip around and gather Yami's clothes and the medical supplies into the large duffle bag he was carrying around. Once satisfied he stalked towards Yami, slinging the bag around his shoulders. Yami flinched as Alphonse knelt down in front of him; the man's hands reached out and gripped him, one hand holding his chin and the other his less injured –and now bandaged - knee. Feeling the intent behind it Yami stared at his captor, green eyes boring hard into him, "Do not struggle, do not try and get away. I do not want to kill you yet, so anything you do will come with a very fun consequence. Understood," giving him a stiff nod through the grip on his face Yami tried to hold still as Alphonse began slowly unbuckling him from the chair. Each motion jarred either his legs or arms, both causing sharp winces of pain to escape him. Alphonse did not even seem to be relishing the sounds; Yami could sense the panic surging through him, the muscles in his arms excessively flexed. Once all the binds were removed Alphonse pulled Yami forward and with one of the belts, tied his arms behind his back, this time enjoying the sounds of displeasure and pain that were drawn from Yami's throat. None too gently he forced Yami's legs into his paramedic pants, barely being mindful of the injuries and not caring when he heard loud grinding sounds in the more damaged knee and Yami's strangled cry. Grabbing a tattered blanket he wrapped it around his captives exposed torso and arms, then with no gentleness pulled off a strip of duct tape from a nearby roll and covered Yami's cracked and bleeding lips.

Alphonse looked at Yami again, taking in the rapidly paling skin and the lucidness in the young man's eyes. The move alone that he was attempting could kill him, he had to find a close location or he was going to lose the young man to shock and illness before he could finish him. With little effort he lifted Yami up over his shoulder, one hand stabilizing the young man's back while the other hooked around his knees. Yami's pained scream was muffled against his shoulder, the strained sound quietly echoing in the building causing pleasured shivers to run down his spine. Stepping over the fallen mutilated body of the one cop Alphonse began strutting towards the open doors when a sound stopped him in his tracks, ears straining he listened.

Bakura could see stairs off in the distance to his left, his back pressed against a large crate. Grey was beside him, scanning the area towards the light that they had both spotted earlier along with the strangled sounds of pain and banging, gun out in front of him. The place reeked of new death, the smell all too familiar, along the distinct smell of disembowelment and blood. He could faintly see a ban saw off in the distance, the moonlight was glistening off of the rusty blade and what looked to be new liquid dripping off it. Allowing his gaze to drift to the floor beside it Bakura cringed, reaching beside him he tapped Grey's shoulder and pointed. Grey averted and peered through the gloom, stomach turning. A dark mass, hands obvious in the small amount of light, lay on the ground in a tangled heap, a thick pool of liquid already forming around it. One cop found, and what they could see of his body it was in one piece, but the feet were facing their direction and the head was not visible. The two detectives exchanged a glance then returned to their task, Bakura moving quietly, boots not making a sound, to the next crate, Grey followed quietly behind.

Both froze at the loud strangled cry that ricocheted around the building, the voice instantly familiar and brought chills to their spines and boiled their blood. Bakura's grip on his gun tightened, Grey could hear it and reached out a calming restraining hand, barely whispering out, "Not yet." Exhaling a calming breath Bakura nodded, popping his head around the crate and towards the hanging light only ten feet away from them. He could see shadows moving, along with between the gaps of the single remaining row or crates spotted Alphonse grabbing a roll of duct tape and moving out of his line of sight. Relaxing back Bakura signaled for Grey to look from his angle. Peering around toward the light Grey held his breath, he could see Yami sitting on the chair as Alphonse stuck the piece of duct tape to his mouth, the clothing he was wearing and the blanket covering all but the facial bruising, but not the sickening paleness of Yami's skin. Even from this distance he could see the dimness in Yami's normally bright and burning garnet eyes, he was in a fairly developed stage of shock, his body not handling whatever he had been put through. Sitting back he looked at Bakura, signaling with his head behind them, "They're right around that last crate. Yami's on a chair in the middle," he whispered voice quiet enough that Bakura almost had his cheek pressed against Grey's lips. "He doesn't look good, but I can't see much for injuries, but he's covered up. Looks like Alphonse is trying to take off, he's got a duffle bag on his back."

Scowling Bakura, with lithe movements and perfect silence, crawled over Grey and peeked towards the directed location. His heart leapt into his throat as he watched Alphonse heft Yami up over his shoulder, the scream the action caused raising his blood pressure. Seeing Alphonse begin to turn he panicked and dropped back down beside Grey, wincing at the soft sound his back made as the Kevlar vest hit the crate. He could feel Grey stiffen beside him as Alphonse stopped moving behind them and the building fell slightly aside from the soft howl of the wind outside.

Snarling Alphonse adjusted Yami in his arms and knelt down, carefully putting the young EMT on the ground. Grabbing a handful of Yami's hair he forced unfocused crimson eyes to look at him, "Don't move until I get back, more un-welcomed friends of yours to greet." Seeing Yami's bewildered expression Alphonse smiled, eyes glancing in the direction that the sound came from. "They've been very quiet; I bet it's your little detective friends. I'll give them a warm welcome for you." He was stunned when clarity, aside from the bright layer of agony, returned to Yami's eyes, his captive glaring daggers at him. "Good, the more awake you are, the more you can witness." Expression becoming a large joker smirk, Alphonse rose to his feet and took slow steps towards the crate that was a few feet away from him.

The two detectives shot panicked glances at each other before scrambling upright in unison, both directing the barrels of their glocks at Alphonse's advancing form and keeping the diaphragm high crate between them. "Freeze! Hands in the air!"

Grin widening to near demonic proportions Alphonse cocked his head to the side, chuckling while raising his hands in the air. Grey shuffled forward, glock aimed directly at the killers head. "On your knees, now!" he called out as he carefully slid toward him. With a python-quick movement, Alphonse whipped out, pushing the gun aside and bringing his body in close to Greys, and in the same movement spinning and forcing the detective's hand, his own digits enclosing around the trigger finger. Grey, disoriented, tensing let out a cry in failed protest as his digits were squeezed, and the gun fired off two rounds in Bakura's direction. Cursing colourfully Bakura ducked behind the crate with an intense lack of grace, limbs flailing as the bullets buried themselves into the crate behind him. With a growl, and reflexes like a leopard, Bakura whipped around the crate and fired off two rounds, eyes widening in shock as he locked at the target. Alphonse had continued the spin motion, expecting Bakura's move and countering it so that the two rounds Bakura fired off landed squarely in the back of Grey, Kevlar vest protecting him from the fatal spots the bullets hit. Grey cried out, the air ripped from his lungs before Alphonse threw him over the shoulder and onto the ground, rolling headlong into the metal table knocking all the tools that remained off it with a loud clatter.

Bakura blinked twice as Alphonse bolted off into the crates, "Fucker," he snapped out, dodge rolling to the next crate. Hiding behind it he pulled out his flashlight and flicking it on pointed it in the direction Alphonse has disappeared to, his glock still steadily pointing forward. "Grey, are you breathing?"

"Fuck you," came the harsh grunted response. Taking the response with a small internal leap of joy Bakura shut out the sounds coming from where Grey was and directed his full focus on the sounds in front of him. Alphonse had dodged behind the crate maybe ten feet away from him, it was right by the edge of the room, close to the wall and directly underneath the filthy windows. Balancing on the balls of his feet he raised up in his knees, and keeping low, darted to the next crate. He could hear Alphonse shuffling behind the crate, gaining his bearing and probably plotting. Peeking around the edge of the crate Bakura sized up the crate, through the moonlight filtering in from above Bakura could see the man's shadow. He was definitely crouched down, much akin to a frog, ready to leap away at the right trigger. Placing the flashlight on the crate above him, directed just to the right of the one Alphonse was at, Bakura raised his gun, "Let's see just how good you are at playing leap frog, bitch!" Sqeezing the trigger

Bakura watched the wood splinter the crates corner and Alphonse bolted instantly, the maniacal grin still etched on his features as he barrelled around to the ban saw nearby. Snarling at the expression Bakura fired again, this time not missing, the bullet grazing Alphonse's hip and nearly sent the man stumbling into the saw blade. Regaining his balance Alphonse flashed a white teethed grin back at Bakura then hid out of sight behind the machinery of the saw. Frustration boiling in him Bakura, keeping the distraction of running and checking on his comrades out of his mind, emptied the chamber in his gun and letting the next bullet click in he rose to his feet. Normal tactics being kicked out the door, knowing full well Alphonse did not have a gun, Bakura advanced towards him gun up and low in his knees. "Fucking frogs," he muttered under his breath.

Groaning in his position Grey rolled from his back to his side, disentangling his limbs from the table and the cord for a saw that had fallen between his knees. Seeing how many inches, it was shy of hitting him higher up in more important parts he cringed and sat up. Turning himself he nearly vomited at the lifeless body laying beside him, the body of the other officer now found, the poor souls head excessively caved in. Feeling his stomach spin in protest he redirected his vision to where he remembered Alphonse standing last instantly spotting the young EMT lying barely a foot away. Twisting onto his knees he winced from the already forming bruises from the bullets he made a mental note to kick Bakura's ass when they got out of here. Shuffling over he leaned over Yami, hands reaching out and resting on his one shoulder and the other on Yami's cold face, cupping it and forcing him to look up. Ruby eyes fluttered and focused on his face, smiling in relief Grey bit back the tremor of tears, "Hey brat, here, let me take the tape off." Gently, as much as one could be, he ripped the tape off internally wincing at the dried skin it tore off Yami's lips and the bleeding it caused. Grabbing the corner of the blanket he dabbed at it softly till the bleeding subsided. "Sorry it took so long."

Yami peered up at him, "Shut it, you're here, that's all that matters," his voice dry and hoarse, wincing loudly when he shifted his legs, intense pain shooting up into his hips and spine from the motion. "Dammit fuck!"

Concern flooding him Grey shuffled aside the blanket and looked at Yami's legs, seeing the bulges around the knees from what he guessed to be bandaging and the smear of blood underneath Grey flicked his attention back to the young man's face. "Can you walk?" Gaining a stiff shake of head and shivering filling Yami's thin form, Grey bit his lip and looked around for anything that might help him move the young man, seeing nothing he turned back to him. "Can you try?"

"He removed my fucking knee cap Grey, no I can't, not without possibly severing the artery," Yami snapped, catching the stunned look in Grey's eyes. "Sit me up please, I can't breathe." It was the small comfort he needed, along with Grey's arms wrapping around him and gently encouraging him into a seated position, even through the cry of pain it ripped from him the sound of Grey's heart pulsating against his forehead where he rested it on the man's shoulders calmed his breathing. "Thank God you're real, if you were an illusion I just might shove that fucking army knife into my neck and fix this whole mess."

"Army knife?" Grey questioned, ignoring the dismaying remark that followed afterwards, eyes roaming over Yami's now exposed upper body as the young man continued. Eyes catching all the bruises, cuts and the edges of medical tape on his sides holding bandages on his back he cringed.

"Kura' gave it to me, it's in my pocket," Yami gasped out. Fumbling for the object while keeping Yami stable, Grey pulled it out and flicked the blade out, admiring it and quietly thanking Bakura for something that could possibly be useful later. Yami flinched; all it made him think of was Alphonse's scalpel. "Put it away, please."

Sighing Grey carefully shoved it back into Yami's pocket. Feeling the belt restraints with his one hand Grey made quick work of it, chucking it away he felt one of Yami's one hand come up and tightly grip the sleeve of his shirt, hand trembling intensely. It was then he could feel the dramatic slope in the other arm where his hand was, gasping he shifted his grip and felt the trembling reduce as the pressure he had been putting on the wound subsided. "Is there any part of you without injury, I can't hold you up without touching something!"

Yami shook his head against Grey's shoulder, "Just, prop me up somewhere, go help Bakura, I'm absolutely useless to you right now." Pulling back Grey gazed at Yami's face, seeing the near defeat and discomfort in those eyes he reluctantly nodded. Yami felt almost weightless as Grey slid him a few feet across the floor to the crate nearby. The moment his back touched the crate he was reminded for the first time in the entire situation the damage that was done to his back, body arching and a wince emitting from him. Grey peered at him in concern and Yami waved him off, voice coming in gasping breaths, "Move your ass, go help him, I'm fine."

Cautiously, not hearing any sounds from in front of him, Bakura moved slowly around the front of the saw, watching the floor to avoid all the cords on the ground. He could feel his own heart beat pounding boisterously in his ears, almost deafening him. Calming the overpowering need to barrel over and beat the pulp out of Alphonse, the detective meandered slowly around the machinery, barely noticing the cold wind that raised goose bumps on his skin from the open door. Hearing the splash of water beneath his feet he lowered his gaze, cringing at the sight that met him. He had forgotten about the fallen officer in the fray. Bakura had to retract his former thought of the body being intact; it looked like Alphonse had clubbed him backwards in to the ban saw, the back of his skull nearly split in two and the front of his face a indented mess of flesh and shattered bone. Realising his foot was in the pool of blood Bakura cringed and shimmied away, forcing the image from his mind and finishing looping around the saw.

Swivelling around the back he pointed his gun directly where Alphonse should have been standing. Brow furrowing in confusion he frantically looked around, body remaining still to keep from making any noises that would mask the sound of Alphonse moving. Cursing under his breath he moved back towards the front of the saw, towards the strip of moonlight and the stairs to his left. _Where the hell did he go? _Bakura panicked, eyes straining to see in the near perfect darkness of the area. Soft movement sounded behind him, like a quiet swish of air from a bird flying gracefully past. Hair standing on the back of his neck the detective stiffened and prepared to swivel around, but warm air stopped him in his tracks. "Time to play," came a whispered voice behind him, thick hands swivelled the detective around and tried to shove him back, digits tightly enclosed around Bakura's forearms to keep him from shooting. Growling Bakura gained his footing, head barely missing the saw blade as Alphonse pushed against him. The devil was grinning, white teeth visible in the gloom. Pushing back Bakura glared hard at his attacker, Alphonse simply smiled more, foot shifting on the floor and resting on something beside him. "I wonder what you will look like in two pieces," it was the only warning Bakura got before a click emitted below and the saw blade turned on.

Alphonse pushed harder with a bellow, Bakura matching him and narrowly avoiding the moving blade, "You're not going to find out prick!" he yelled, fervently pushing harder, dropping the gun to do so.

Both Yami and Grey snapped their heads in the direction of the sound of the ban saw turning on and the loud yells from both Bakura and Alphonse that drifted over to them and settled heavily.

The thought not even fully processing in his mind Grey unclipped his spare glock from its holster and slipped it into Yami's palm and then gently tucked the young man's hand up underneath Yami's dislocated arm, flinching at the pained grunt Yami gave. "You've proven to me that you can't hit a long range target, what about close range?"

Yami gave him an incredulous look, "About as well as I could punch you right now," he said sardonically. "Now move your ass."

Yanking his other gun out from its holster on his hip Grey snapped to his feet, and with one look back at Yami, barrelled towards the sound of the ban saw. He could see through the moonlight and his adjusted eyesight Bakura and Alphonse struggling against each other, his partner's gun on the ground and under the saw. Weapon raised and dodging around the last crate Grey pulled the trigger, shot inaccurate but gained the effect he wanted. Bright blood exploded from Alphonse's arm the instant the bullet hit it, a clean shot through muscles only, not debilitating but affective. Growling Alphonse stumbled back, hands releasing Bakura and instead one flew up to cover the profuse bleeding. Taking the opportunity Bakura, rather vigorously with his foot, turned off the ban saw and kicked the switch away from reach. With the saw off and the intense noise gone from it Bakura yelled across to Grey, gaze near leaving Alphonse's livid features. "Is he safe?"

"Barring any bad luck," was the quick reply, gun still pointed steadily at Alphonse Grey slowly inched forward, one hand reaching to his belt to pull out the handcuffs. "Down on your knees bastard, hands where I can see them."

Alphonse only had to grin for Grey to flinch. Faster than Grey could pull the trigger Alphonse gripped the extended wrist, pulled Grey forward and shoved his fist up into the detectives sternum, a loud crack emitting along with a strangled cry. Face to face Grey could see the intent behind those green eyes, chills running through him, and his inability to breathe stopped him from giving out a warning.

The killer predicted Bakura's vicious punch, head moving aside just enough that the detective stumbled forward into him and his fist connected with Grey's face instead of the back of his head. Grey fell back, gaze lifting in time to see Alphonse grab Bakura's extended wrist and with inhuman strength threw the detective over his shoulder and tumbling into him forcing them both to crash to the concrete in a heap of limbs.

Bakura was the first up, angered growl accentuating the hard and well-aimed swing. Alphonse blocked it, expression staying calm, his now injured arm causing a pained sting from the jolt. The next swing he could not block, a small smile fleeting across his face as Bakura's fist rammed into his stomach, then the other into his jaw. Still grinning Alphonse snapped his hands up, gripping Bakura by the ears he wrenched him forward and slammed his head into the detectives forehead, his barely causing a headache whereas Bakura dropped to his knees in near unconsciousness. Expecting Grey's counter attack he dogged the fist that careened towards his face, sidestepping and using the velocity of Grey's punch, hit the man in the back of the head forcing him to fall forward hard and fast against the concrete. Smile fading he stared down at the two nearly unconscious detectives, seeing a glint by his foot he knelt down and picked up the fallen gun, scowling at it he chucked it away, hearing it clang loudly off in the distance. "I will finish you two later," his voice holding promise to the statement. Swivelling he strode away, ignoring the barely coherent angered yell Bakura emitted.

Bakura's yell and the echo of heavy footsteps, familiar footsteps, sent a chill and sense of foreboding through his bones. Grip tightening on the gun Yami forced the courage into himself to look in the direction of the footsteps. Alphonse had stepped back into the small area beyond the crates, a confident smirk on his face and blood trickling down his bare arm. Green eyes were alight with a mix of blazing hatred and triumph. Swallowing hard Yami kept his features serene, watching Alphonse come up to him and kneel down directly in front of him, one foot and either side of his legs. "You won't win," he murmured out, voice still hoarse.

"I think I already have," Alphonse said with a grin, his one hand reaching out to brace himself against the crate so he could lean forward, his hand barely an inch from Yami's face. "Your detective friends are discombobulated enough that I have time to either kill you know or take you with me out to the van I have parked in the back and leave. I just have to choose which one I want to do."

"You move me you will kill me before you can even lay your hands on me," Yami reasoned.

Nodding his head in agreement Alphonse scowled, "The fact that you are still alert right now amazes me. Makes me want to know how much more you can take. You have been my best specimen so far, a true prize. But, you are right, if I move you there is a more than likely possibility that within the next ten minutes your body will go into such an advanced state of shock that medical intervention will not save you. So, how do you propose I finish this hm?"

"I'd rather die on the operating table then by your hands," stated with finality and emphasized by pulling out the gun Yami pointed and shot as best he could, arm lacking strength to hold the weapon properly.

Blood spattered on Yami's face as Alphonse careened backwards, dropping down at Yami's feet his hands instantly covered the bullet wound on his shoulder. Hand pulling away Alphonse stared at his own blood thickly coating his hand, mind panicked as it calculated where the shot hit then smiled but not with mirth. His shoulder was mangled internally, the shot not a through and through, entering in at his collarbone and lodging into his shoulder blade, severing the rotator cuff ligaments and muscles. The limb hung limply as his side, he could barely move his fingers never mind his elbow. It was a good shot, from a cripple.

In the back of his mind Yami was panicking, knowing full well that as good of a shot as that was, it was not the one that was going to keep him alive. He was going for the heart, or the head, either one would have suited his purpose. But this, this shot only slowed Alphonse down a little. Feeling his body tremble he released a shaky breath before calming himself. Bakura and Grey, considering they were not here, were either badly injured or dead. He had heard Bakura's cry, but it did not prove to him that he had not bleed out from some wound in the darkness further into the slaughter house. He had one last chance, raising the gun again he prepared to pull the trigger, this time holding the barrel directly against Alphonse's forehead.

Deep laughter emitted from Alphonse, bloodied hand reaching out wrenching the gun with ease from Yami's hand, a bullet firing off to careen somewhere off in the building. Then enclosing that same hand around the young man's neck he pushed his weight forward, revelling in the gasp of pain and lack of oxygen his prey made. "Too high, time to die." To his delight and satisfaction Yami's eyes widened in shock as the air to his lungs was cut off, watching him pull out with his other hand, with little grace and minimal movement, a scalpel from within his pants. Grinning he kept the weight on the young man's throat constant, locking with dying crimson eyes as the young man gasped for air and he used his precious weapon in its last stroke of beauty. Pushing away he took the scapel in his good hand, taking advantage of Yami's disoriented state from lack of oxygen. Yami merely stared on, body limp and mind going blank, accepting the inevitable. Pressing the tip between Yami's ribs Alphonse shoved it forward, knowing full well he missed the heart but he hit the lung and felt it deflate under his weight. He could see the life fading from Yami's eyes, his breathing coming almost to a complete stop, short hard and pained.

The sharp boisterous sound of a gunshot startled him from his work, along with searing pain ripping through his chest from one side and out the other. The agony starting just below his armpit and straight through, gliding along his diaphragm and perforating one of his lungs. Stunned Alphonse pulled his hand away from Yami, leaving he scalpel in the barely moving chest, and placed them on his side. Feeling hot blood he looked in the direction the shot came from, stunned to see Soren standing with the gun pointed at him not a few feet away, paramedic bag slung across his back.

"Get the fuck away from him," Soren screamed irrationally. Seeing that Alphonse was not moving Soren pulled the trigger again, his luck not as good as before but still effective. The bullet drove into the concrete beside Alphonse's one knee that was facing him.

Gaze lifting from the bullet hole in the floor Alphonse glared hard at the young man, he knew fear and panic were driving Soren but he was not going to risk another wayward shot working. Rising stiffly to his feet he raised his hands ino the air in surrender, a grin crossing his features, "I still won, your efforts are in vain Soren."

"Mother fucker!" Bakura bellowed as he and Grey run up – both rather shakily- behind Soren, both barrelling past and taking advantage of Alphonse's stunned state and viciously pulling the man away from Yami and to the ground. Bakura viciously shoving Alphonse's face against the concrete while Grey leaned all his weight against the knee he placed on the man's back.

Lips quivering from the tears that threatened to overwhelm him Soren dropped the gun with limp fingers and stumbled over to Yami, ignoring the struggle going on close by. He could see the pale skin, the blood, closed eyes and the scalpel protruding from a dangerous location in his friend's chest. Fearing the worst he felt his body begin to tremble, cursing himself vehemently for not coming in faster. Dropping to his knees he shakily cupped Yami's face with his hands, not withholding a delighted sound when pale crimson eyes turned to acknowledge him. "Thank God, I thought he killed you."

Breathing laboured Yami relaxed into Soren, his friend moving him away from the crate and laying him flat on the ground, keeping his chest stable,"What are you doing here?"

"I made them take me, just in case you were in as bad of shape as you are. I already dispatched to the hospital, the ambulance is less than a three minutes away," Soren whispered, hands and eyes rapidly assessing the damage, tears running down his cheeks as he did so. Holding back the fear from the realization of the severity of Yami's condition Soren tried not to panic, pulling out an oxygen tank and breathing mask from the bag he hooked it up to Yami. "I'm begging you, stay alive, please." All Yami could manage was a minute nod, his strength rapidly fading.

Eyes glaze Yami slowly breathed in the pure oxygen the mask was feeding him, his chest burning with every inhale, "I forgot what this felt like."

Hands, still shaking badly, Soren pulled out wads of gauze from the medical bag and began to create a stable bandage around the scalpel. Glancing down at his derlious friend he dared to ask, "What?"

"Having a knife lodge in you, I don't remember it being this uncomfortable," he knew he was just babbling, but it was keeping him alert, and he knew it was the only reason why Soren was encouraging it.

"I can't give you anything for it Yami, you are losing way too much blood internally, if that bruise on your stomach says anything at least. Slow your breathing, you know the oxygen will only help you so much," Soren stated, securing the dressing on Yami's chest. Pulling out the emergency blanket from the medic bag he rested Yami's head on it and began to asses down his friend's body. Reaching the legs he instantly felt the deformities and its severity was confirmed by the muffle agonized yelp Yami let out. Biting his lip he grabbed the scissors from his kit and began to cut away the pants above the knees to reveal the damage. Gloved hand coming up to cover his mouth against the horror he could see he shifted his gaze to Yami. "What the fuck did he do to you?"

Clicking on the cuff Grey sat down on Alphonse's back, barely keeping still as the man bellowed and struggled underneath. He could tell that the man was losing strength because his struggles were weakening. Stabilizing himself he looked up at Bakura whom was clicking a pair of cuffs over Alphonse's ankles. "Go to him, I'll play mother hen."

Clenched fists trembling Bakura rose to his feet, "Turn your head away for a second Grey, I'm doing something very illegal." Grey merely looked at him quizzically until it all clicked in as Bakura brutally rammed his foot into Alphonse's damaged shoulder. The killer bellowed out, a slew of curses leaving his mouth. Bakura only smiled and strode away, a small amount of tension leaving his shoulders.

Nearly stumbling when his eyes for the first time fully rested on Yami Bakura felt his chest tighten, "Fuck," was all he managed out before he dropped down on Yami's other side. Cautiously he reached out and placed one of his hands on Yami's head, gently brushing sweat damp bangs away. Crimson eyes turned to him; they were barely coherent and faded in lustre. "Hang in there, the ambulance and TACT should be here any second now."

In answer all eyes turned towards the entry into the building as the piercing sound of sirens filled the night's stillness, bright blue and red lights filtering in and lighting up what was formerly in darkness. Yelling could be heard along with the slamming of vehicle doors. Several pairs of feet tactfully moved into the building, lots of people yelling out clear as Bakura stood up and waved his arms in the air to get their attention. "Everyone stand down, we are over here, suspect apprehended!"

Through the gloom Anderson saw them and ran forward, signalling for the others in the unit to go towards where Bakura was signalling where Alphonse was. Running up he stopped dead in his tracks, jaw hanging wide as he stared down at Yami, then at the fallen and clearly deceased cop nearby. Seeing the panicked expression Soren and Bakura were giving him he called out across the building, "The areas clear, EMS can enter. Haul ass guys let's go!" Shifting his gun Anderson stared down at Yami, relief hitting him when the young EMT looked up at him, "You're going to make it kiddo, we made it."

"Alphonse is going to need an ambulance as well," Bakura expounded, his other hand taking Yami's and holding it gently, ignoring the coolness of the young man's skin. "Two gun shots, could not be avoided."

Anderson nodded, "I'll get onto it," stepping aside as two EMS member ran up to them, spine board and equipment ready. "I'll give you guys some room. I'll be by the hospital as soon as the other unit shows. Keep him alive."

Bakura stared on numbly as Yami was rapidly assessed and rolled carefully onto a spine board. Only when he was rolled onto the board did Yami's gaze leave his face. For the first time in his life Bakura truly felt panicked and afraid, even when he had seen Yami after the gunshot months ago he had not felt this helpless. His chest was tight and he barely breathed as the EMT's secured Yami to the board and coordinated who was carrying what. He barely registered that Grey had come up beside him and grabbed the medical bag, pulling him to his feet as well with a stable arm as the three EMT's lifted the spine board and rapidly made their way out of the building. Gaze lifting to Grey's was the first time he felt the tears rolling down his face. Sighing Grey pulled him along, "Anderson is handling Alphonse, we are following the ambulance." That spurred him back into coordinated motions, running alongside Grey out of the building.

The EMT's already had Yami loaded into the back of the ambulance, Soren was reaching out to them for the medic bag. Handing the bag over Grey murmured quietly, Bakura beside him, "Is he going to make it?"

"If we get him into the O.R fast enough, maybe. I'll fill you in at the hospital as best I can," Soren answered before putting the bag on the floor of the rig and closing the doors. Siren's turned back on and the ambulance raced out to fourteenth street heading straight for Rockyview hospital.

Hand lifting up Bakura wiped the tears from his face, an intense feeling of dread filled him. Digits gripping his hair he barely registered that Grey was guiding him to the car and pushing him in. Kneeling down in front of him Grey gripped his shoulders, "Snap out of this, he'll make it, don't think about anything else. Get your feet in and seatbelt on," he said, his own voice trembling with unshed tears and worry. Numbly Bakura did so, Grey slamming the door immediately and dashed over to his side. Jumping in he fired the ignition and roared off after the ambulance, flicking on the lights and sirens. "He needs your strength, don't falter on him now."

Focusing his vision Bakura nodded, "Let's hope it's enough."

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The second ambulance finally arrived, hands on his hip Anderson glared on as they assessed the psychopath and got him ready to be packaged up. The TACT guys had already gone around and covered the mangled bodies of the two cops with black sheets, along with protecting the evidence as the EMS personal moved around while they waited for forensics to arrive. A few of them were still moving around carefully trying to find anything that they could. One had already located Alphonse's trophies deep into the slaughter house and had labelled and bagged them. Feeling his heart rate still beating rapidly he crossed his arms and tried to focus on everything in front of him instead of what had already left. Hearing static and what sounded like recorded screaming Anderson peered around, averting in the direction it was coming from, spotting a few of the TACT guys standing by a nearby crate.

"Anderson," one of the guys called to him. "You'd better come see this."

Turning Anderson meandered towards the two officers standing at the crate. Eyes narrowing he looked at the two in bewilderment as he stared at the piece of equipment in front of him rested carefully on the crate. "Is that…?"

"A camera," one of the two men answered, dismounting it and turning it so Anderson could see the screen. Rewinding it the officer stopped it on a point nearly twenty minutes prior. The image was crystal clear as they watched Alphonse slowly repairing the damaged first knee. Paling Anderson turned it off, vision going red as the other officer murmured. "He recorded it all. Probably as attempt to remember it, a trophy I guess."

Resisting the urge to stomp over and pummel Alphonse where he was currently being carried out on a stretcher, Anderson took the camera. "No one is to look at this. I'll hold onto it until forensics gets here. Understood."

"Yes sir."

**A/N:** _And…..till next chappie :D _


	21. Chapter 21

**SILHOUETTE**

**A/N:** _Thanks to graceadee, soysauce, Water Sorceress, ilovemanicures, CrimsonSrawberry17, Guest, Arlownay1991,_ _manga-animelove, pro-alipro, and dragonlady222. Thank you guys all for your fabulous and motivational words *bows* hopefully I can keep this up and write well enough for all of you to continue loving this story. Thanks again!_

_Warning, this is going to be a slower chapter, given the circumstances I think you all will understand why. The next one will be a little more fast moving. _

**CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE**

_03:45am – January 22__nd__- Rockyview Hospital_

The clock continued to tick by, three hours on the mark. Impatiently he paced back and forth in front of the operating room door, hands in his pockets and head down, not acknowledging anyone. Grey was sitting with Soren nursing his freshly bandaged chest, bruised and broken ribs making him breathe slow and shallow as he watched Bakura move to and fro, barely avoiding the doctors and nurses that passed. Soren, out of uniform and clean sat beside Grey, Abby sitting quietly beside him stroking his hair as his head rested on her shoulder. Crissy and Russell, along with Elenor and Mike sat in some of the other nearby chairs in the waiting room, Kieran and Jack had gone off to the cafeteria to grab coffee for everyone.

All of them were grateful and not that the operating rooms in this hospital, unlike many seen on television, did not have glass viewing into the room. You could not see what was going on, which meant that they were both depressingly in the dark but also unable to see the extent of the damage. The three hour and counting operation was hint enough to them just the amount of work the doctors had to do.

Carrying heavy trays of coffee Kieran and Jack re-entered the waiting room. Jack, after setting the tray down and allowing everyone else to help themselves, grabbed two cups and strode over to where Bakura was currently stopped in front of the operating room door. Using the coffee to tap on the young detectives shoulder Jack gave a weak smile to Bakura as he turned around, "Drink, it might help your mind settle. And, help keep you awake."

Blinking dumbly Bakura nodded and gratefully took the Styrofoam cup, opting to drink the hot black liquid. When Jack did not move away Bakura cleared his throat, "Thank's for getting here so fast, and so early in the morning."

Sipping his own coffee Jack sighed jadedly, "Of course, would have gotten here faster if waking Kieran up was as easy as it sounded. How are you holding up?"

Pursing his lips Bakura lowered his gaze, "Can I lose my sanity yet?" A large strong hand reached up and rubbed his back, glancing at Jack he saw the sympathetic expression. "How the hell am I supposed to stay calm when they haven't said anything yet?"

"Well, considering patience is not one of your strong suits," Jack said, his tone holding affection but still pointed. "Then you just have to keep yourself in check and pray, if that is something you do, if not, keep a level head on your shoulders and stay strong for him. It won't be long now; they won't put someone that has endured that much trauma through much more. With what Soren said were his injuries, I would imagine that this is far from his only surgery; he's probably going to have several more. They don't want to overload his system, especially with how fragile it is. They will fix what is necessary to keep him alive, then after that they will cease the surgery and slowly repair everything else in the coming weeks."

Tipping his head back Bakura downed half of his coffee, "Yeah, may consider that praying thing for the first time in my life."

Footsteps came from behind them and both men turned to see Crissy come up behind them, her green eyes that mirrored the colour of Soren's looked up at them both. Her arms were wrapped around herself and she was shivering, though Bakura guessed it was not from the cold. Bakura side stepped a little and allowed her to come between him and Jack, Jack putting his arm gently around his daughter. "He's going to make it right; they would not have had him in surgery for this long if he wasn't going to."

Jack nodded, "He will, just have some patience lassie girl."

On cue the doors to the operation room opened and a doctor strode out to them, a familiar one. Dr. Ryant glanced around the group with tired eyes, pulling off the blood stained gloves with a snap he encouraged Bakura, Jack and Crissy back with hand signals. Behind him the door was held open by several nurses and a bed was wheeled gently out of the room, the nurses strategically blocking the view as they moved it away. Taking in the expectant eyes Dr. Ryant glanced between all of them before speaking, "He made it through, but he's not out of the woods yet."

"What do you mean?" Kieran questioned.

"Meaning that we have repaired everything that was internally bleeding, and stabilized all the injured joints. We also had to drill a small puncture hole in the side of his head to get the swelling down and remove some of the excess blood to reduce the risk of brain damage. At this point, that's all we can do," he expounded, crossing his arms. "There is no immediate evidence of brain damage, which is surprising in and of itself. The risk that still runs is infection. Unfortunately the tools used were, even though apparently sterilized, could possibly still cause problems, not to mention the environment he was in."

"Can we see him?" Bakura murmured.

Dr, Ryant shook his head, "In an hour maybe. We need to allow him some rest and time to recover from the anaesthesia."

Hands rubbing his face Soren pipped up through his fingers, "How many more surgeries does he need?"

Sighing Dr. Ryant shook his head and rubbed the back of his neck, "At least five, maybe more. Depends on how difficult reconstructing his one excessively damaged knee will take. I do have to warn you all now, even though there is still a chance that he could make a full recovery because I believe it's a slight possibility. All of you need to accept the fact that he may never walk properly again, or have full function of his shoulder. At a minimum, with the damage done to the one knee, he may need to use something to assist him with walking for the rest of his life, or he may walk with a permanent limp. Either way, even though its possible he may push through, I need you all to understand that he may never be able to be an EMT again. It'll all depend on the surgery, his persistence and how well he recovers."

Through the stunned silence Bakura asked, his voice strained, "What exactly happened to his knees."

"Well, the one had the LCL and MCL cut," Dr. Ryant began, shoving his hand into his sub pockets. "The other, all the ligaments were cut, along with the tendon. The patella was removed along with the meniscus cartilage. Basically, to put it simply, everything that makes up the knee was surgically removed. We are going to have to reconstruct him an entirely new knee. The other will just need some graphing to repair the ligaments that were damaged." Seeing the expressions of horror and shock he sighed deeply. "His shoulder is going to need some extensive surgery as well. Whatever hit and pierced the muscle and pulled the joint out of socket, caused a fair amount of damage to the muscle, and the velocity created injuries to his rotator cuff and the actual bones of the joint. It's going to be a long road to recovery. Also, with the amount of surgeries coming up, we may have to put him into a chemically induced coma for a few weeks, to reduces the stress to his system."

"Christ," Mike cursed quietly, running a hand through sweat dampened hair. "When will you decide that?"

"In the next day or so, we have to assess everything and decide the best course of action."

"Thank you doctor, for doing what you can and being honest with us," Jack said, extending a hand and shaking the doctors with gratitude. "I'm grateful for your forthcomings."

"Of course, any questions you can come find me. I'll be doing my rounds," he said, making to turn and walk away when Bakura called him back.

"The bandages on his back, that Alphonse put there, what did he do?"

Shoving his hands in his lab coat Dr. Ryant seemed to debate internally with himself before exhaling deeply, "The paramedic symbol was carved onto his back. Not deep enough for stitches, but deep enough that it will scar." Seeing the tremor increase in the detectives hands Dr. Ryant reached out and gripped his arm. "There are ointments that we will be trying to reduce the intensity of it, but there are no guarantees." Throat gone dry Bakura managed a stiff nod, watching the doctor give his arm another squeeze then disappear down the hallway.

Immediately replacing the doctor, and coming from the same hallway fast enough that the group could not process the news, Anderson strode up to Bakura and signalled for Grey to come over. Looking at Jack he gave the man a smile, along with Crissy, "Sorry to be pushy, but may I talk to these two alone for a moment." Giving a nod Jack took Crissy back to the chairs. Grey finally groggily meandered over to them with a glare. "I've got good and bad news boys. Which do you want first?"

Bakura scowled, "Good first."

"Well, because Alphonse was not able to get away we found a fuck ton of evidence at the scene. He's not getting away from us. Speaking of the devil, he made it out of surgery as well, damn bastard got lucky the kid missed his heart and only blew one lung. He's in recovery right now with officers watching him, and he's cuffed to the bed."

"And the bad news?" Grey asked, not sure if he wanted to know the answer.

Swallowing hard with nervousness Anderson crossed his arms over the Kevlar vest he was still wearing, "How do I put this. One of the TACT guys found a video camera. Yes it was set up, and recording. The fucker recorded the entire thing."

"What," Bakura growled, russet eyes blazing in anger. "He recorded that, if it wasn't such good evidence I would burn the damned thing."

"I agree completely," Anderson stated, . "Now, down to business on that. You two are going to have to watch it. In terms of that, if you want me to sit through it with you for an extra eye and support, I will."

"Definitely," Grey agreed, yawning and rubbing his sore neck. "It'll have to wait till tomorrow though, today's just not happening."

Anderson nodded, "I assumed not. How is the kid doing anyway? I'm guessing by the doctor that I saw that he is out of surgery finally."

"He'll make it," voice choking Bakura almost couldn't finish. "But Alphonse may have permanently crippled him for the rest of his life."

Gripping Bakura's shoulder Anderson looked at his friend sombrely, "The kid is as tough as an ox, he'll push through. I had better head back out though, I will go babysit forensics for a while then come back and check on the jack ass in a few hours. Take it easy you two."

"You too," was the unified response.

As they turned the detectives were received by expectant gazes, everyone was looking at them with demands in their eyes. Freezing in place Grey and Bakura shared a thought and a glanced, both exhaling nervously. After a silent internal debate that they both came to the same conclusion on they stated in synchronization, "Alphonse is alive, but still under police custody. He is here in this hospital, but he is restrained the bed he is in and under constant surveillance."

Grey continued from there, hands around the hot cup of coffee and its smell calmed him, "Sorry Soren, your first shot wasn't as good as hoped. Also, there was a piece of evidence found at the scene that is both distressing and exceedingly useful."

"What is it?" asked Kieran and Soren.

"A video camera, that was on and recording through all of the time Yami was with Alphonse," Bakura said stiffly. "We have to view the tape with Anderson tomorrow."

"What?" Bakura and Grey cringed at the unanimous and boisterous response everyone let out simultaneously.

Putting his hands up in a placating manner Grey continued, "We will be the only ones viewing this tape, along with lawyers later on when we get close to the court date. Otherwise, this is evidence and will be kept strictly confidential. It will be locked up so that no one can copy it and broadcast it over the internet."

"The son of a bitch recorded it?" Mike's voice stunned and angered. "Why?"

"To relive the fantasy," Soren answered sombrely, gaze locked on the ground, even when he could feel everyone's eyes shift to him. "He's been dreaming about doing what he did for months. It's his trophy, so he can relive it over and over again."

With a nod of agreement Bakura shoved his hand into his pocket and took a shaky drink of his coffee, "We will not be able to tell any of you what we see in the video. It is strictly police business. The only way all of you will truly find out what happened is when Yami is ready to tell you. Until then, the rest of it has to be left in the dark." This caused everyone to lower their heads and silence to descend upon the waiting room.

"So, what now?" Kieran questioned, breaking through the silence, his face almost pleading.

Folding his hands and resting his chin on them Mike looked at the young man sitting beside him, "We hope and wait."

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_10:04 am – January 22 - Rockyview Hospital  
_  
Bakura sat quietly with his hands folded under his chin and elbows on his knees. His gaze drifted around the room, vision hazy from exhaustion. Soren was stretched across several of the chairs nearby, head in Abby's lap as they two of them slept soundly, each with a blanket over them. Bakura could see the soft swell of her belly now; she was no longer trying to hide it after finally telling her parents. One of her hands was resting on it while the other was draped across Soren's shoulders. Even through the stress of the situation both looked comfortable and serene. Drifting over to the two chairs on either side of him both Grey and Mike were out cold, Mike with his black cowboy hat covering his face and Grey in a very cramped position holding his ribs. The bruising on his partners face was finally showing completely, his one eye black and sunken and his cheek was an odd shade of green and purple. Grey's gear, including the removed Kevlar vest was piled up on one of the nearby chairs, Abby's purse resting on top of it as well. Realising that he was still wearing his Bakura stood up as quietly as he could and slowly pried off the Velcro before slipping it off and adding it to the pile.

Dr. Ryant had, a few hours ago, told everyone else to go home and he would personally contact them when Yami woke up and was ready for visitors. So the room had become even more quiet over the past few hours, the only sounds was the soft sleep filled breathing of everyone else. Crossing his arms Bakura glanced between all of them, quietly admitting to himself that he was glad for their companionship even if they were sleeping. It was relieving some of the sensation of aloneness that had been overwhelming him when they had first arrived at the hospital. Looking up at the clock he decided to go grab some more coffee from the cafeteria, he needed to stay awake, there was no way he was going to be able to sleep peacefully until he saw him safe and alive. His nerves had yet to settle, and he could guess that that was the reason why. Spinning on his heels he made to exit the waiting room, a familiar figure was there blocking his path, "Dr. Ryant?"

"I'm glad its only you awake right now," the doctor whispered, an exhausted smile on his face. "Yami woke up a few minutes ago. He's asking for you, he's pretty disoriented." Seeing the elated but still jaded expression sweep across the detective's face Dr. Ryant signalled for him to follow and strode away, the detective stumbling a bit before following.

Heart racing excessively and almost making him feel faint Bakura rushed after the doctor, his feet barely keeping pace with the fast walk the doctor had set. Weaving through the hallways they entered an elevator, hitting the button for the I.C.U. and watched the doors close. Glancing at Bakura he saw the look the button he pushed caused, "He's only up there for a few days, just till everything completely stabilizes from the surgery and his body purges out everything. He was in a pretty advanced stage of shock, some of his organs were beginning to shut down. This is just to keep a closer eye on him, don't worry, he will pull out of this." Numbly Bakura nodded, hands shoving nervously into his pockets. The doors to the elevator opened and the two of them stepped out, walking only a few feet to one of the nearby rooms, Dr. Ryant giving a wave to the nurses at the desk before grasping the door handle. "Be warned, like before he is hooked up to a lot of machines. But he is breathing on his own; his lung recovered better this time from collapsing. He does have an oxygen mask on though. You ready?"

"Yeah," Bakura mumbled, body freezing when the doctor shoved the door open. Inhaling sharply he felt his blood go cold, no amount of mental preparation could every make someone ready for the sight before him, even through the gloom of the room the daylight softly peeked through the closed curtains and reveled everything. Back in the slaughter house Soren had kept Yami pretty well covered by the blanket, the full amount of injuries were not visible to his eyes, plus Alphonse had excessively bandaged him. All the bruises has settled now, his face swollen and an array of black, purple and yellow, his natural skin colour barely visible. He could see the bandage and shaved hair were the drill hole had been done, releasing the swelling, a drainage tube poking out from under the bandage. What was visible of his one arm was dark bruises and scratches, especially at the wrist, it was a thick dark circle of contusions and raw skin. Not realising that he had covered his mouth with his hand until Dr. Ryant's hand rested on his shoulder he glanced at the doctor, "Go in Bakura, I know how shocking it is, but he needs you."

Breathing rapid and body shaking the detective crept into the room, seeing that Yami's eyes were closed he wondered if he had fallen back asleep. Grabbing a chair from nearby he moved it with all the skill he had to keep it quiet and placed it beside the bed. Settling down in it he took a moment to look at Yami's face, even through the softly fogging non-rebreather mask he could see that Yami's lips had scabbed over in spots and were swollen. The fogging of the mask was a relief to him, it was all he needed to be able to tell Yami was alive. Holding back the relieved sob that tried to leave him he reached out to take Yami's one hand that was outside of the blanket, the other was hidden from view under the sheets. His breath hitched when he realised hazy crimson eyes were staring at him, the sound of the door closing made those same eyes flick to the door before drifting back to his face. Feeling the trembling in his hands increase he finished taking Ymai's still cold – but warmer than before – hand into his, his other hand stretching out to gently caress Yami's cheeks. A soft smile crossed his features, tears filling his eyes he simply stared into that deep wine coloured gaze, no words came to him.

Shifting in the bed, wincing as he did so Yami pulled his hand from Bakura's and with strength he did not think he had gripped Bakura's shirt and pulled him forward, glad when the detective took the hint and gently wrapped his arms around him, avoiding all the major injuries. He shuddered when he felt Bakura tenderly kiss him on the brow, his lips lingering as his arm gently snaked under Yami's neck and pulled him closer, freezing when Yami winced again. "Don't let go," Yami whispered hoarsely, not caring how pitiful it sounded.

Feeling his heart sink Bakura moved his one hand and tenderly run it down Yami's side and rested it on his hip, "I won't," he said softly. "I need this too." It was scary admitting to it, but over the past couple weeks he had done a lot of admitting he never thought he would. Sitting back a little he stared down at the young man in his arms, melting at the softness he could see in those eyes. "How are you feeling, be honest."

Considering for a moment Yami peeked down at his body, the shock of it hitting him less and less since he had woken up almost half an hour ago. "Loaded on morphine and antibiotics, and very nauseous. Doctor said it was probably because of the concussion and the procedure they had to do to reduce the swelling. And probably the several more feet of my intestines they had to remove. I just, don't feel well."

"He said you were disoriented?" Seeing Yami nod he quirked his brow in question.

"Just…it's probably shock, but, I feel like it had all been a nightmare, even though I know it wasn't," he murmured, an ashamed look and his gaze dropped. "I'm sorry; I never should have gone back out into the field. I practically gave myself to him, fuck I'm so stupid."

Gripping Yami's chin with the gentleness as if he was holding a butterfly he forced the young man to look at him, briefly catching the stunned look he received. "Do not talk like that. You needed to go back out, as much as I protested Yami I knew you needed it for your sanity. This was a freak fluke, he had no idea that you were there, and the fact that he found you there was sheer dumb and unplanned luck."

"Then how the hell did he know I was in the ambulance?" Yami protested weakly, his fist still holding Bakura shirt tightening. Body going rigid Bakura pursed his lips, seeing this Yami glared at him. "What?"

"Soren um," Bakura stammered, head lowering. "He did not recognize him. Alphonse came over pretending to be an off duty doctor, even flashed his I.D. Soren sent him over to wake you up, one of the patients had dropped and gone into cardiac arrest. He needed your help." Jaw dropping as best it could with the mask Yami stared at Bakura in stunned disbelief, quivering entering his frame. "He's kicking himself for it Yami, he realised too late who it was. Alphonse was able to get access to you out of sheer dumb luck. With the evidence found at the slaughter house, it looks like he never left, he wasn't stalking you either. It was random chance Yami; there is nothing that can be put to blame for this happening so don't you dare try and blame yourself."

"Where's Soren? I need…"

Interjecting Bakura placed his hand on Yami cheek, trying to steady the young man as Yami squirmed to try and sit up. "Sleeping, he's in the waiting room. I've already beaten him over the head with it Yami, he knows it's not his fault, he just needs to see you and apologize to you. That can wait, relax before you hurt yourself." A strangled cry echoed in Yami's throat and Bakura eased him back down, Yami had not moved much but apparently it was enough to cause pain. Trembling continued under his ministrations as he rubbed Yami's hip, trying to relax him, crimson eyes had closed tightly against the agony he had caused himself. "Don't move, you'll just hurt yourself more."

An intense feeling of overwhelmed loss filled him and Yami curled in on himself, clinging to Bakura with his one working hand and he could feel the tears welling in his eyes. Trembling and bearing through the wave of pain he whispered out pitifully, a small amount of childish insecurity running through him, "I want my parent's, I need them here," hot tears began to fall and wet his cheeks, Bakura's large hands wiping them away as he held him.. Detaching his hand he fumbled to his chest searching for his mother's necklace, not finding it he felt the muscles in his body tighten in dismay heart ached. The comfort Bakrua was giving him was amazing, but it was not enough. He needed that wrapped security blanket that he could only get from Tawni and Garrett. So, unable to do anything else he cried, grateful for the strong arms wrapped around him and the soft words the man whispered into his ears, rocking him back to sleep.

The soft leveling out of Yami's breathing and the reduced strained sounds from him signalled to Bakura that he had fallen back asleep. Sighing with relief he pulled away, his one hand brushing aside a damn golden bang so he could stare down at his love with an unobstructed view. Glad to see those features he loved so much smoothed out in slumber, marred only by the tear tracks and bruising, it brought a small comfort to him. It was then he was able to heave a deep breath and reduce the trembling in his own body. He was not entirely surprised by the statement, but he was in the fact that Yami actually felt that lost enough to admit to it out loud. Since Garrett had passed away that was one thing that Yami had never said aloud, never really needed to by the body language he sometimes let slip. He would say that he missed them, and have moment of looking lost and disoriented, but never once saying that he needed them there and being that heartbroken. Hearing it brought a sympathetic pain to his heart, it worried him to see Yami that disoriented and easily distressed. He could tell that Yami's mind was still reeling and sorting out everything that had transpired over the last two days, and apparently by how disoriented he was, he was having a hell of a time dealing with it.

"Damn you Alphonse," he cursed quietly, tightening his hold on Yami. "Damn you, I'll make sure you rot in that fucking prison cell for the rest of your life, if not, I'll kill you myself."

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_13:00pm – January 22 – Rockyview Hospital _

With a glance between the two of them Soren took hold of the door to the hospital room and entered quietly, Grey and Mike following closely behind. The doctor had led them up a few minutes before, but had gently hinted that Abby in her fragile state should not go into the room yet. He had taken her with him to the cafeteria to distract her for a little while. Stepping into the dark room Soren instantly spotted Bakura slouched over on the bed, eyes closed and head sharing Yami's pillow, the two of them tangled together as well as they could be through Yami's lack of mobility. The sight almost made him turn back around, wanting to let the two of them sleep.

"Keep going Soren," Grey encouraged in a whisper, his hands on the young man's back and pressing forward subtly. "We'll visit quickly then leave, they can sleep afterwards."

Mike pushed past them with the grace of a gentle giant, striding across the room he tapped on his nephew's shoulder, the detective instantly waking he glancing up at him blearily. "Time to share bucko." Giving a smile he stepped back and let Bakura yawn and rub his eyes with his one arm that was not pinned underneath Yami's head. "How's he doing?"

Seeing Grey and Soren come over Bakura shrugged, still incoherent himself he sighed and softly ran his digits through Yami's hair, "A wreak, to put it nicely. He's holding it in pretty well, sort of. But, he's not handling the shock of the situation yet."

"It's not nice to talk about someone when they are in the same room," came Yami's groggy interjection, eyes barely opening and seeing the ashamed look on Bakura's face released a quiet sigh. "At least it was not a lie."

Coming around the side of the bed Soren braced himself on the side of the bed with one hand used the other to adjust the shifted oxygen mask on Yami's face, when finished he checked the gauges on all the monitors. Seeming to be satisfied he sat down on the other side of the bed, one hand barely touching Yami's injured shoulder, Yami immediately acknowledged him. "I'm sorry bud, I know it's not my fault that this happened to you, but it is my fault for sending him your way. I know that…"

"Soren, shut up," came Yami's firm shut down, voice gaining some clarity. "Don't say another word. I don't care what happened; none of it is your fault. You saved my life Soren, I will never hold anything against you, ever. So drop it." Immediately Soren started trembling and tears welled in his eyes, taking a immense breath Yami unhooked his one hand from Bakura's and rested it on Soren's outstretched arm. "If you had not shot him, I'd be dead. If you had not been there and able to give me the rapid medical treatment I needed, I would be dead. Remember that next time you try and think like that. If I am not allowed to, neither are you." He smiled softly through the mask as Soren took his hand with a near vice like grip. "Thank you, by the way, all four of you."

Leaning against the back rail of the hospital bed Mike gave a small smile, "All that matters is that you are alive kiddo, there is no need to thank us."

In a moment of remembrance, and mind briefly reflecting to before he fell asleep, Bakura reached into his jacket and pulled out the necklace he had been holding onto. "I should have let that click earlier," Yami was staring at the necklace, nearly in tears as he did so, breath caught in his lungs. "It was with everything he removed from you in the ambulance you were sleeping in. Let's get this back where it belongs." With gentleness and care Bakura pulled out his numb arm from under Yami's neck in order to support it as he put the necklace on, the Celtic knot resting on the bandages on Yami's chest.

Taking it in his hand Yami visibly fought back the tears and the need for them that he was still overwhelmed with. Closing his eyes he relaxed his breathing while Bakura slinked his arm back where it had been and let the other rest on his hip. He froze in surprise when Bakura leaned forward and kissed his brow before whispering in his ear, quiet enough that no one else in the room heard, "They are here love, not in the physical manner that you need, but they are always near you." A small almost whimper released from him and Yami nodded against Bakura's chest, clinging to him with all the strength he had.

Kneeling down beside Bakura, Grey folded his arms on the mattress and rested his head there, "Breathe Yami, you need to relax before you hurt yourself." He could see Yami nod again even through the small shield Bakura was being around him, and his chest relaxed and slow forced breaths came, along with a wave of clear exhaustion in those ruby orbs. "Are we overwhelming you?" catching another nod Grey slouched and frowned in melancholy. "What do you want us to do bud; we will do whatever you need."

Voice strained and fist still clinging to Bakura, Yami croaked out through the need to cry, "I don't know, I just…"

Bakura stiffened in shock when Yami when limp, out cold in his arms. Blinking he reached out and check for a pulse out of impulse, exhaling the breath he did not know he was holding. "He passed out."

Scowling, but not seeming overtly concerned Soren expounded, seeing that the others in the room did not completely understand, "It's going to be his body's natural reaction I think, aside from sleep, to dealing with everything. It's going to be a long road to normal I think."

"Is he ever going to be normal again?" Mike said, his voice holding an edge to it. "The kid just got tortured for twenty-four hours almost. How normal is he honestly going to be?"

Soren hung his head and shrugged, looking at Yami's now sleeping face, "We will find out as he recovers as to how well he is going to handle what happened to him. Yami's the strongest person I know, he will pull out of it, but there are going to be things that bother him or change about him that we will all have to adjust to. It just that simple, and just that complicated."

Catching the balled fist beside him Grey looked up at Bakura, blazing fury burned bright in russet eyes, swallowing hard he placed a restraining hand on Bakura's arm, "Calm down, we got him, he's never getting out of prison."

"That is currently feeling very much like a slap on the wrist for him right now Grey," Bakura snapped quietly. "I want so bad to tear that man into itty bitty little pieces with my bare hands."

"It's not worth it Bakura, Yami needs you here not behind bars," Mike said pointedly, gaze holding steady as Bakura snapped towards him. "I understand what you are feeling. Just don't act on it."

"Yeah," was the tight jaw and clenched teeth answer they received, Bakura averting his attention back to Yami, hand ghosting over his frame.

Sensing the tension Grey stood up, wrapping an arm around his partner's shoulder he said softly, "I'll come pick you up tomorrow morning from here. Stay here for the night, Dr. Ryant is actually pretty insistent on it. Get some rest, and take care of him until then."

Turning Bakura peered between the three of them, "I'm sorry," he sighed in realisation. "I'm being irrational."

Soren shrugged again, leaning down he gave Yami a brotherly kiss on the forehead then came around to stand beside Grey, "We understand Bakura. Pretty sure we are all feeling the same way, you are just more…vociferous about these things, and more willing to act on them. It's healthy, sort of."

"We will let you be kiddo, you both need some alone time and time to sleep," Mike stated straightening out and yawning. "I will see you tomorrow, you are going to have to shower and get some clean clothes on."

Swallowing hard, keeping back the emotions welling within him Bakura nodded, "Sounds good. Thanks guys, I will see you all tomorrow."

With a wave, and a show of reluctance, the three men exited the room. When the click of the door locking reached his ears Bakura rained a few chaste kisses on Yami's face and hand, relishing in the feel of his skin and the sensation of his beating heart radiating through his veins. Caressing the young man's face he sighed and laid his head back down on the pillow, "I love you," he whispered, glad to be able to finally admit that out loud. "I'm here for you, sleep well."

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_06:34am – January 23__rd__ – Rockyview Hospital _

Groaning Yami blearily opened his eyes, taking in the white ceiling of the hospital, his chest tightening in reflex again as what he was hoping was him waking from a nightmare was him waking from a memory. The sound of Alphonse singing and of ligaments snapping still rang loudly in his mind, bring a note of panic into him and causing him to stiffen more. His movements must have awoken Bakura, the detective grumbled beside him and sat up, staring half coherently at Yami, "You alright love?"

A strained smile crossed his lips, sarcasm laced in his tone, "Best dream of my life, I love relieving memories."

Alertness surging through him Bakura grew serious, "I wish I could tell you it was just a nightmare."

Taking Bakura's hand in his Yami pulled him back down, glad when those arms where back around him, "I can't get the images out of my head, the sensations. Every time I've fallen asleep that's all I see. I'm losing my mind." Cringing Bakura lifted the oxygen mask, seeing the look of confusion he smiled and leaned down and kissed him gently, pouring all the comfort he could into the single gesture of affection. Yami trembled and relaxed, eyes closing at one point because when Bakura pulled away and the mask was back where it was he realised that they were closed. Looking back up at Bakura he murmured out, "He tore we down, beat me down into little pieces with barely an effort, I could barely fight back. God Bakura he won, I may not be dead but I'm a broken crippled little child."

"Don't let him win Yami," Bakura said forcefully, hand tightening to a fist on Yami's hip. "You let him break you, let what he did shatter your mind, and he won. You can still pull away from this, don't let him destroy you anymore without having to lay a finger on you."

"Then what am I Bakura!" Yami almost yelled, voice strained as he glared intensely up at the man he had fallen for. "He sliced my knees apart so I can never walk again. He destroyed my shoulder so I will never be a paramedic again. He marked my entire back with his symbol. All I can think about so far when my eyes are closed is how easily he over powered me and beat me into submission, casting me on the ground like a broken toy! What the hell am I then Bakura if I am not bloody broken! I used to think that I was strong, that I could take care of myself. He took all that confidence away and then some!" Barely feeling, or caring about, the tears that were flooding down his face Yami tightened his grip on Bakura's shirt, pulling his face close to his. "What the fuck do I have left about myself that is worth anything!"

His resolve fell as Bakura sombrely stared at him before placing his free hand over his beating heart, his touch light as a feather. Throat tightening in reaction Yami shook his head, covering Bakura's hand with his own, chocking back a sob. The detective nuzzled his forehead against Yami's, the sharp pain that had developed in his chest lessening. "You are still you Yami, you can still come out of this as the strong man you were and still are. He only over powered you Yami because he had five men beat the shit out of you and shoot you before he took you on. You still were not healed when he took you, still not back to the strength that you hold. And, you were sleeping, you can overwhelm anyone when they are sleeping. You are still you Yami, don't let him take that away from you."

"But.." Yami began to weakly protest, a single finger ghosting down the side of his face stopped him.

"You can pull out of this on top Yami. You can push yourself and beat the odds and be everything that you were again. Where is the determination in you that I fell in love with!" Bakura, with trembling digits, began to wipe away the tears, even though more immediately joined. "You can rise above this Yami, you just need to make the decision not to let him break you."

Trembling Yami buried himself as best he could against Bakura, weakly murmuring out, "Am I still enough for you?"

Shoulders slouching Bakura held Yami tightly, "Always. Just come back to me, don't let him win."

"I'll try," Yami whispered, eyes closing in sleep again, his senses and mind overcome again.

For a while Bakura sat as he was, just holding Yami as he slept. His own mind was reeling from the outburst, dread filling him. The answers to what happened were going to be revealed to him today, but with how distraught Yami was he was no longer certain if he wanted to know. He could sense the rage within him growing, he did not know if he himself could handle much more before he snapped and stormed through the hospital and put two bullets in Alphonse's head.

Hearing the jostling of the door he glanced over his shoulder, Grey and Soren entered the room both looking like they did not get much sleep. Realising what time it was Bakura stiffened, he did not want to leave yet, not with the state Yami had been in the three times he had been alert so far. Grey seemed to sense this and while walking up pointed to Soren, "The brats going to stay here while we go view the video. We will only be gone as long as you are comfortable Bakura."

Head shaking Bakura sighed deeply, "I'm not sure if I can leave, he was pretty distraught when he woke up an hour ago. He's got it set in his mind right now that Alphonse broke him, took everything away from who he is that is worth a damn. I don't want him to wake up and have me not here."

Sighing Grey gave Bakura's shoulder a squeeze, "I understand Bakura, but we need to view this tape so we can finalize the charges we are going to lay on him, and to find out what the hell happened. You know you need to know what he did, it will help you in terms of dealing with him and helping him cope. Like I said, we will only be gone as long as you are comfortable."

Reluctantly Bakura disentangled himself and stood up, back popping in protest he glanced at Soren, who seemed nervous. "If he wakes, call me." Soren nodded, sitting down in the chair and taking Yami's limp hand into his.

With that assurance, but with extreme reluctance, Bakura strode out of the room with Grey following his partner silently and with his head down out of the hospital.

**A/N:** _Alright, on to the next chappie, hope this one was good even though it was slow._


	22. Chapter 22

**SILHOUETTE**

**A/N:** _Thanks to CutePiglet, Guest, graceadee, soysauce, Arlownay199, dragonlady222, CrimsonStrawberry17, Manga-Animelove_

_Getting down to the wire on this one….one or two more chapters left, maybe, we will see how it plays out. _

**CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO**

_9:25am– January 22__nd__- District One Office, Downtown Calgary, Homicide Unit_

Third cup of near diesel fuel strength coffee in his hands Bakura relaxed as best he could into the squeaky old computer chair he had plopped his rear into. He could feel his heart pounding in a steady but extremely rapid pace within his torso, his fingers drumming on the table beside him in a counter beat. Placing the edge of the Styrofoam cup of coffee against his lips he stared at the frozen television screen. Anderson had it started already, paused at the start of it all. Nothing could be seen, of Yami and Alphonse at least, the area was blank and exactly how Bakura remembered it. The image was surprisingly clear, dark, but clear. He could pin point all the tools on the one table, the crates in the distance, and the distinct glow of the moonlight through the doors into the slaughterhouse.

Grey stumbled into the room, coffee in one hand and nearly spilt and a half eaten sandwich in the other. Nonchalantly dropping down into the other chair in the small cramped interrogation room, he glanced over at his partner. "You sure you are ready for this? We can put it off."

"There is never going to be a good time for this Grey," Bakura grumbled, slurping back some of his liquid caffeine. "May as well get it over and done with now." Seeing Grey scowl slightly and nod in agreement through his peripheral vision the detective stared hard at the screen. "How long until Anderson gets in here."

"Patience is not one of your strongest virtues is it Bakura," Anderson chuckled coming into the room quietly and closing the door with a hard click, arms full of files and his own coffee. Plopping down in the remaining chair he dropped the files down on the small metal table in the room and fished out the remote from within the cluster, along with the piece of paper that was taped to it. "Now, I watched the tape already last night with one of the forensic analysts," catching the heated glare he received from Bakura, and the alarmed expression from Grey he sighed."He, namely Hayden, is the one going through the tape right now and fully fixing the image and searching for all the shit that is not apparent to the laymen eye. He is the only one aside from us that will be viewing that tape. Now, because of already watching it I have written down times of note, i.e times when Yami is awake and things are happening, or just when something of note is occurring. I did this in hopes of keeping you two away from the hospital for a lesser amount of time. This is important, I understand that, but being there for Yami is significantly more so and so I tried to reduce that stress on you. Does that work?"

Calmed Bakura nodded, "Yeah, works for me."

"Same here, let's get this shit started."

Clicking the button on the remote to un-pause the image, Anderson leaned forward in his seat, ready to explain everything as needed. And, his chair was going to fall apart if he sat much further back.

The doors to the slaughterhouse opened abruptly in the image, a shadow drifting forth into the room before its owner appeared on the screen. Alphonse, with Yami draped unconscious over his shoulder stomped into the warehouse, slamming the doors shut and carefully placing Yami on the ground. He fumbled for a few minutes, looping a chain through the door handles and latching a deadbolt lock, his breath visible even on the screen through the cold. Picking Yami up, the gentleness from earlier gone, he hefted the young man through the building and into the open area in front of the camera. All three detectives watched, one less tense than the other two, as Alphonse dropped Yami down onto the ground hands gripping the EMT's hands and forcing him upright, looping the rope around bound hands into the metal butchers hook. Expression remaining the same he picked up the switch nearby and pressed the button, head cocking to the side in interest as he watched Yami being slowly hoisted from the ground till his feet were nearly a foot from the concrete. Hitting the stop button he callously dropped the device and strode up to his captive, whom was stirring.

Bakura stiffened, watching quietly as Yami deliriously came to, clearly unable to focus on anything. "How the hell did he get him that disoriented? There was no drugs found in his system."

"They could have worn off by then," Grey murmured, gaze transfixed on the screen, eyes narrowing in surprise at Yami's sudden stiffening. "I doubt it was a drug, he came around too fast for that."

"Shush you two, and you will find out, they talk about it," Anderson hissed.

Yami tensed heavily on screen, the muscles in his body obviously seizing in pain, eyes opening as Alphonse spoke in front of him. "Fascinating, isn't it," came Alphonse's voice loud and clear. "How that one single hit to such a sensitive area can cause such a variety of sensations. Pain, pleasure, bright lights and vivid hallucinations. Are you enjoying it, it must be quite the unique experience?"

"You should try it sometime, you might like it," Yami ground out through clenched teeth.

Smiling Alphonse grunted before leaning against the tall heavy table beside him. "You would love to help me experience it wouldn't you."

Inhaling and exhaling slowly in hopes of calming the pain and trembling in his limbs, Yami peered lazily at him. Shrugging as if uninterested he answered. "Maybe."

"Hit to the back of the neck?" Grey guessed, getting the agreed nod from Anderson and Bakura he turned back to the tape.

Silence fell over them as they watched the exchange between Yami and Alphonse, coffee going cold in their hands, their attention unwavering. Gazes narrowed when Alphonse paced around Yami, tapping the EMT's shoulder and Yami's gaze would re-focus back on his from his surveying. Three bodies stiffening at Yami's snide, but truthful, comment and the repercussions that came from it. Alphonse toying, playing, while Yami stared on with surprising calmness, before he unleashed his rage after a hard barefoot kick was delivered to his side from his captive. Bakura and Grey felt their jaws drop when Alphonse began to argue with himself, fighting back and forth with someone that did not exist, before lashing out hard at Yami. Dropping the young man hard to the ground before wrenching the struggling man onto the table, strapping him down with rapid and frightening precision. Hard fists, as he continued to argue with an unknown individual, hit Yami before the metal bar followed.

Grey did not know when his hand had come up to cover his mouth, dropping it away he glanced over at Bakura, unable to watch Alphonse slowly cut open Yami's arm with surgical precision. The detective was rigid in his chair, one fist clenched to the point of being unhealthy while the coffee shook in his other. "Should we stop?"

Bakura shook his head, placing his coffee on the table before he spilt it. Flinching at the sound of the bone saw through the tape. "Well, that would explain why that arm shattered so easily from whatever it is that Alphonse did to him later on," his voice strained.

Pausing the tape, Anderson quietly fast forwarded it to the next time slot, pausing it when he got there. "Warning now. Alphonse, between times when Yami is out cold, is fucking freaky, I won't be playing through those sections but you will see them when I fast forward. He just, stares, it's like he is possessed or something. But, he never ever takes his gaze off Yami. Gives me chills just thinking about it."

Bakura sighed stiffly, before waving his hand, "Just play the damn tape." He regretted it, quietly withholding the rage within him, eyes glued to the screen as Alphonse slowly drew the paramedic symbol into Yami's back with a scalpel. Gaze flicking to the time on the screen he cringed, nearly half hour spent carving out the symbol until Alphonse finally cleaned Yami's back with iodine before covering it with bandages. Then, when Yami finally fell into sleep, Alphonse sat in a nearby chair and stared. Chills reverberating up his spine Bakura tore his attention away, glad when Anderson hit the fast forward button on the tape.

"This next part, is a doozy," Anderson said delicately, downing a large portion of his now cold coffee. "At least, the end is. Ready?" Receive two reluctant nods he pressed play.

Bakura leapt to the edge of his seat, Yami had escaped on the screen and was running off in a rather unstable fashion towards the exit. His heart seized and leapt up into his throat when Alphonse followed, crowbar in hand, "Please don't tell me," he whispered out, voice holding a scary edge to it that had Anderson reach out and grip his arm, calming and restraining. The shadows played in the far end of the building, they were unable to see anything beyond the first row of crates. Anderson had to increase his grip and use his other arm in assistance to hold Bakura steady, the detective lurching forward teeth clenched and pale as a ghost.

Grey gasped, quivering entering him as Yami and Alphonse re-entered the view of the camera. Alphonse had Yami slung over his shoulder, heavily bloodied crowbar dragging at his other side. Unable to hold back when Alphonse dropped Yami onto the nearby chair and began to stitch and bandage the gaping and gushing wound he grabbed the small garbage bin nearby and lost his lunch into it with a hard retch. Heaving he looked back up, seeing Bakura breathing heavily beside him and eyes dark with rage he wiped his mouth and put the garbage pail back down. "Maybe we should stop, you need to calm down Bakura."

"No," the detective growled out, eyes still transfixed on the television screen. "We finish this now or I never will." The angered trembling in his body increasing while Alphonse viciously tied Yami down to the chair, manipulating the badly damaged arm. Closing his eyes for a brief moment he reached up and covered his face with his hands, feeling the cold skin and the thick sweat he exhaled deeply, lungs quivering and heart pounding. Minutes passed by that he did not register, head snapping back up at Yami's ragged scream the echoed in the small room. Blood freezing Bakura stared on, stomach churning in horrified disgust and rage. Yami's knees were slowly dissected in perfect clarity on the screen, the young EMT barely staying conscious and far beyond the ability to resist and stay strong through the torture anymore. His body going cold when Alphonse began to sing, the mantra of the children's song ringing in his mind along with Yami's guttural screams and strained whimpers. Every harsh statement Alphonse made thereafter, ones that kept Yami from struggling and screaming for help when the two police officers entered the building and were mutilated violently, and the others thereafter left his blood boiling to the point of being the temperature of magma. Anderson continued to restrain him, especially after Alphonse slaughtered the second police officer right in front of Yami, then as he stuffed Yami's knee with gauze and wrapped them both thickly. Finally he joined Grey, stomach unable to take anymore he wrenched himself out of Anderson's grasp and barrelled for the nearest bathroom.

Stumbling into the stall, not bothering to close it behind him, he leaned over the cold porcelain toilet and retched, everything that he had put in his stomach rapidly leaving. Becoming dizzy he dropped down on the tile floor, heaving with his eyes closed he sat there with his arms draped loosely beside him and his legs extended into the next stall. Anderson and Grey were there immediately, opening the stall door. Grey knelt down beside him and Anderson braced himself over the both of them, using the stall doors to keep himself upright.

Finally opening his eyes Bakura looked up at them, face solemn, "Now I understand why Yami feels so damned defeated. God that bastard," anger resurfacing, but dizziness keeping him from moving. "I could barely handle watching it, imagine how he felt."

Anderson sighed, "Hayden and I were not better off watching it the first time either, second time around really is not much better."

Back of his hand resting against Bakura's forehead Grey scowled, "You've got a fever Kura', let's get you out of this bathroom and back to your house. I need to get you some drugs for that before you can go near Yami, doctors won't let you in the room if they find out." Gaining a reluctantly nod Grey pulled Bakura to his feet, Anderson assisting.

Swaying Bakura leaned up against the stall wall. "I don't have a fever." Seeing Grey and Anderson both glare at him he scowled. "Fuck fine; take me home, only to grab meds though."

Anderson frowned slightly, shoving his hands into his pocket. "I'll clean up and follow. I have to go check on asshole at the hospital, then I am going to come visit the twerp if he is ready for company."

"Alright, let's tag team and go in the same vehicle," Grey suggested, one hand darting out and steadying Bakura as the man swayed again when he stepped away from the wall. "Let's grab the garbage and get mister over-stressed some drugs."

"Could get some of the really good ones from down in the evidence locker," Anderson said jokingly.

"Don't tempt me," Bakura grumbled, hand shoving into his pocket and pulling out a pack of cigarettes. "I need a smoke; I will meet you guys at my truck out front."

"Just don't fall over," Grey said forcefully.

"Funny."

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_12:14pm– Rockyview Hospital _

The beeping of a cell phone alert brought Yami unwillingly back into alertness. Quietly, instantly realising that it was not Bakura beside him, opened his eyes and averted his head to see Soren. The room was still dark, curtains drawn and blocking out the sunlight, the light of the cell phone lighting up Soren's face, fingers rapidly moving over it as he answered a text message. Blinking he clenched his one working hand, feeling the stiffness he cringed before relaxing it. The movement must have caught Soren's attention, because his friend looked up from his phone and hurriedly put it away. Tentatively Soren placed his hand over Yami's, relaxing when Yami faintly smiled through the oxygen mask. "Hey, how are you feeling?"

Taking a moment Yami peered down at himself, even though he was pumped full of morphine the pain still radiated through him with an intensity that he was not prepared for. Taking a breath he tried to relax, lying flat on the bed, head facing Soren. Nausea was still strong, he felt on the verge of vomiting without the retching and blurry vision. "In a lot of pain, damn morphine. Makes me feel sick more than it does what it is supposed to do."

"Anything I can do?" Soren asked hopefully. Yami shook his head, but tightened his grip on Soren's hand, signalling to what he needed. Sensing the fear Soren sighed and leaned forward, other hand resting on Yami's shoulder. "I won't leave Yami, I promise, not until Bakura gets back from the district office."

"The district office? What is he doing there?"

Stiffening Soren shied away from Yami's intense gaze, scratching the back of his head he stammered out, "Case stuff, Anderson is updating them on the evidence. That's all I know."

"Liar." The quick retort slapped Soren in the face, green orbs lifting to re-lock with garnet. Yami scowled, then coughed roughly, his one hand leaving Soren's grip and went to his chest. Sitting slightly forward, not moving very far he only succeeded in rolling onto his less injured side, he tried to breathe. Soren gently reached up to rub Yami's back only to retract at Yami's sharp wince and another coughing fit. Steadying himself, and his breathing Yami laid back, body protesting against his movements with vigor, new levels of pain pulsating through him.

"Sorry, I forgot," Soren stammered, holding his hands as if he had burned them.

"It's fine," Yami whispered, hand gripping Soren's tightly and pulling it down with little strength to the mattress. "You are not going to tell me the truth, are you?"

"No, not yet," Soren said carefully. "Bakura, Grey and Anderson told me not to. Please Yami, don't argue," he said rapidly, his stern expression silencing Yami, the young man glared hard at him. Exhaustedly Soren rubbed his face with his other hand, his voice going firm. "Just, don't fight me this time Yami. You need to rest and relax; your body cannot handle your furtive and frankly stupid protests."

Blinking in stunned disbelief Yami peered up at Soren, reflexively his hand tightened on his friends. "Soren, what's wrong?" He questioned softly, his friend's strong outburst still leaving him reeling. All he received in answer was his friend giving his hand a squeeze before pulling out his cell phone and firing off a quick text, not hiding the fact that it was to Bakura. "Soren?"

"Do you need me to raise the bed so you can sit up a bit, your breathing still isn't great," Soren questioned, avoiding Yami's insistence. Seeing Yami nod he detached his hand from his friends, one hand pressing the button on the side of the bed and the other gently steadied Yami as the bed mechanically lifted until Yami was almost in the semi-fowlers position. Turning off the bed Soren fussed with the blanket that had shifted and pooled at Yami's waist and made sure it covered most of the bandages and hospital gown. Seeing Yami's concerned expression he sighed, hand resting on Yami's stomach gently, "What I can tell you is there are two things that we are keeping from you. Both are up to Bakura to tell you, and only when you are stable enough to be able to handle them. Don't argue Yami, I won't have it," he interjected again, scowling deeply when he saw Yami try and speak. "Yes, I know, you are strong and all those amazing things. But, right now, you are not. You need rest, especially with the amount of surgeries coming up that the doctor mentioned. Has he even spoken to you about that yet?" Receiving a shake of the head from Yami, he sighed. "You have medical knowledge Yami, you already know that there is a lot more coming for you on the recovery process, Dr. Ryant is guessing you are going to need at least three more surgeries at a minimum. He and the other surgeons are going over your x-rays and everything like that right now to come to a final decision on what they are going to do. But your body needs to purge the toxins that built up from the shock you were in, and shake off the fever that you had before they can do that. He said something about coming to a final decision on what they are going to do today he hoped. With all that in mind Yami, you cannot afford to stress your system any more than it already is. Doing that will just delay all of this."

Eyes drifting from Soren and resting in a daze on the silhouette of his body beneath the thermal blanket Yami felt his throat go dry. He had been so much in denial that what had he had endured at the hands of Alphonse had happened, and so scared and panicked about his own mental issues that he had not even processed his injuries. Lifting his one hand, ignoring the concerned look Soren was giving him as he meticulously watched him; he ran his fingertips up over his torso and up his left arm before resting them on the bandages around his shoulder. Swallowing hard he finally lifted his gaze back up to Soren, crimson orbs dejected, "How the hell are they going to fix this Soren?" he questioned, voice cracking when Soren reached out and rubbed his arm with his other hand. "Everything else I know can heal and return to something close to what it was. But my shoulder, my one knee….how are those going to be fixed so that I can use them again? Am I ever going to be able to be…normal…again?"

Sighing deeply Soren stared at Yami with jadedness and uncertainty, his digits tracing the IV line on the back of Yami's hand,"Honestly, I don't know. And as much as I want to tell you that you will walk again, that you will run again, that you will be back with me as my partner as an EMT, I do not want to give you false hope."

A swift knock on the door startled Soren and spun him around in his seat, his hands never leaving Yami as he spied Dr. Ryant standing in the doorway. Clipboard in hand the doctor sighed at the sight before him; he could see tears glistening in Yami's eyes, closing the door to gain some privacy he moved into the room. Moving around to the other side of the bed he flicked on the overhead light, illuminating Yami on the bed. Seeing that more colour had returned to the young man's skin he took note of it on his clipboard before placing it at the end of the bed. Soren and Yami both watched him intensely, probably confused at his silence, as he quickly check all the machines before assessing Yami's breathing with the stethoscope. Hearing some stress still from the surgery and pain, Dr. Ryant noted though that a fair amount of the fluid build-up had dissipated. They had suctioned out all the blood, but Yami was on the verge of bronchitis from being so badly exposed to the elements along with the stress put on his body from his captivity, so a fair amount of mucus had built up and it was one of the concerns he had not voiced to the family members yet. Pulling the stethoscope away he pulled out a thermometer and quickly took the young man's temperature, he smiled in relief to see that it had gone down to hundred and one from the high temperature it had been when the young man arrived in the hospital.

"Okay Doctor, the silence is killing me," Soren protested.

Dr. Ryant smiled and continued his assessment, checking quietly on all the bandages, exposing as little of Yami at a time as he could, "All good news so far. Your temperature has gone down, and the fluid build-up in your lungs has gone down. No sign of infection so far," he murmured, pulling the blanket away from Yami's injured shoulder. Gently prying Yami's hand away he pointed for Soren to lift and stabilize Yami's arm, Yami winced loudly but kept himself still, eyes closed and jaw clenched. With great care Dr. Ryant began to peel away the bandage to inspect one of the two wounds that concerned him. Pleased with what he saw, there was no signs of infection he quickly re-wrapped the shoulder. "The other good news I have. I just got off the phone with the pharmaceutical head of the Kaiba Corp. company, and if you agree with it Yami, I have a proposal for you."

"I'm listening," Yami said, voice strained, flinching and tensing when Dr. Ryant allowed his shoulder to finally rest.

"Kaiba Corp, specifically its new Pharmaceutical division, has been working on some new products lately. Namely, joint replacement products, ones that are fairly high tec and allow almost completely normal movement. They have not been able to test their new products yet, none of the elderly lately that have needed the surgery could justify using the equipment. But, the head of the division is pretty enthusiastic about you being their first tester for the products, if you are willing. It will make it so that the max amount of surgeries from the possible five we could have had to do, to just three, one for each of your knees and then your shoulder and arm would be a single procedure."

Yami narrowed his eyes in thought, "Kaiba Corp, that is a Japanese company. How much would this cost to try? It's got to be above the medical coverage I have."

Dr. Ryant shook his head, "It is completely covered by your insurance, and what isn't they refuse to make you pay. Considering you are their first tester, they do not want to burden you with the finances."

Sharing a look with Yami, Soren peered at the doctor, "Are there any issues that could come from the products, aside from his body possibly rejecting them?"

Crossing his arms and sitting down on the edge of the bed, the doctor smiled, "That is the beauty, the possibility of rejection is the only repercussion. The company is even willing to help you with the physiotherapy that is going to come from the surgeries, they have specific programs. They will send someone out here to work with you and be here through the surgeries."

"How soon?"

"They will send someone out here in three days if you decide to go for it."

Stunned Yami glanced at Soren, at a loss for words. Seeing enthusiasm in Soren's gaze he swallowed hard, squeezing his friends hand for support. Soren smiled at him, "Why not, it's worth a shot."

Throat still dry Yami merely nodded his consent, a small smile gracing his chapped lips. Dr. Ryant smiled back and reaching put gently pulled off the oxygen mask. Pulling out some ointment from his pocket he gently, with small winces from Yami, covered the damaged lips with it. "If you are having issues breathing, I will leave the mask here. Keep it off for a little while and let that medicine sink in and return some moisture to them. Alright, I will go make the call to the rep I was talking to you let you know more as I find everything out. Out of what we have planned, we are going to space the surgeries, put a week between the three. You are probably going to be in the hospital till at least the end of March."

Yami choked, "Two months?"

Standing up and striding to the door the doctor nodded, "Yes, we have to keep you here to monitor that the replacements stick, and then make sure you can walk with at least a cane before we are going to let you leave. So yes, two months, I will be back in a few hours to do your blood test," with that he exited the room and closed the door.

Exhaustion sweeping over him Yami closed his eyes,"Holy hell."

"Do you want me to flatten the bed? Let you sleep,"Soren questioned.

"No, this is more comfortable, but thank you," Yami murmured, re-opening his eyes to look at his friend. "Is Bakura going to be back soon do you know?"

Checking his phone Soren nodded, "He's on his way, he was just at the house." Putting the phone away in his pocket Soren stared at Yami critically. "Be honest Yami, mentally how are you doing? You seem calmer than yesterday."

"Still, reeling," Yami murmured quietly, eyes going distant. "Still feel like I should be in a dream, that this didn't happen, but mentally I know otherwise and the discomfort is reaffirming that. I, um,"faltering Yami tightened his hold on Soren's hand, his friend sensing his need and gently rubbed his arm. "This is pitiful, but I still, scared. I cannot seem to get it out of my system. I'm terrified to be alone. It's pathetic."

"Yami, say those words again and I will slap you,"Soren said firmly, grinning at the quirked brow Yami gave him. "I understand that you are still scared, I would still be shitting myself."

"What, happened to him?" Yami questioned. "To Alphonse?"

Flinching Soren scowled deeply, slight panic in him."Well, that was one of the secrets. Alphonse survived, he is under police surveillance at the hospital."

Stiffening Yami stared at Soren, "What hospital?"

"This one," came Bakura's voice from the doorway, face solemn while he absorbed Soren and Yami's stunned reaction to his arrival. Walking in, hands in his pockets, with Grey and Anderson behind him Bakura let Soren scramble out of the chair before he took it over, his one hand reaching out and gently caressing Yami's face with the back of his fingers. Seeing the panic in Yami's crimson eyes he scowled, especially when Yami started to squirm nervously, "He won't touch you. For one, he is being kept on the bed by restraints, two he is in pretty rough shape apparently from the bullet wounds, three as soon as he is well enough he will be transferred to the Foothills then taken to the Prison after that when he has recovered. He should be ready to move by tomorrow once some beds clear up from the Bow building accident. Four, there are two cops and two security guards watching his ass, with a shoot to kill order if he gets loose. And five, one of us will always be with you here. He is not getting anywhere near you ever again. Understood?" Yami nodded stiffly, nerves still not settled, sensing this Bakura leaned forward and gently kissed him on the cheek and then moved to his forehead. "Relax Yami, don't hurt yourself."

Leaning against the wall on the other side of the bed Anderson stared down at Yami, arms crossed over his thick chest. Seeing that Yami was still tense as hell he signalled for Soren to replace the oxygen mask, moving out of the way so that the EMT could do so. "We've got enough evidence against him now Kid that he will never be getting out of prison."

Inhaling a large but shaky breath of pure oxygen Yami nodded somnolently, the need to sleep overwhelming him again. Shivering under Bakura's gentle caressed, fingers drifting across his jaw and through his hair he allowed his eyes to drift shut, letting sleep take him back into her embrace.

Snarling, anger from viewing the tape earlier still pulsating through him Bakura laid a small kiss on Yami's brow before standing up, "Watch over him, I will be right back."

"Don't do anything stupid Bakura," Grey warned knowingly.

Glancing back at his partner Bakura grinned devilishly, "Maybe."

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The lights were dim in the doctors hospital room. He preferred it that way, the light bothered his head, the headaches had persisted since he got into the facility. The hallway was quiet, save for the quiet click of nurse shoes up and down the halls.

He concentrated on his limbs, flexing and releasing the muscles, trying to keep down the cramping from his restraints. Success was minimal, but it was better than nothing. The slowly increasing sound of heavy footsteps, out of place in the quiet hall came to his ears, louder and louder, finally stopping right outside his door. Murmured voices, just outside the range of his hearing, and then the door slowly clicking open.

Blinding light, Alphonse grimaced against the glare and shut his eyes hard. He could not see the face of the person that was now at his bedside. It was not a doctor, they smelled of fear and disinfectant. This was different, leather, sweat and...gun oil.

"Detective, how good of you to come," the Doctor finally muttered, eyes still shut against the light. "I get so few visitors, besides the medical staff. Is this business, or pleasure?"

"Both," came the husky reply, as Bakura pulled a chair over and sat beside the restrained killer.

"Do tell."

"Open your eyes, Doctor," Slowly, he followed the short order, which he found odd, as he never followed orders. The light was like knives in his eyes, but he shut out the pain and looked at the man who had captured him. The detective looked to have aged years in just a few short days, the bags under his eyes highlighting the crows-feet that were forming around them from lack of proper rest. He sat there heavily, his shoulders slumped, his posture burdened, but the eyes again, they held the anger of a thousand suns.

"Do you know what the difference between us is, Doctor?"

Alphonse smirked, "No, I do not, detective. Can we cut through the formalities though, Bakura. I would hope that we are familiar enough with each other by now to bypass titles."

"You will use my name, only when I give you permission, Doctor," Bakura straightened, the years falling off him, and he leaned forward, the intensity of his anger was a nearly physical force on the doctor. "The difference is simply this." Bakura reached into his jacket and pulled out his badge. The brass gleamed brightly, enhancing the light-knives in the doctors eyes, then it was gone as Bakura set it on the bedside table.

"When someone attacks the people I care about, with intent to harm and kill, I follow within the bounds of the law. There was no intent when Devon died, yet you could not hold to the oaths that you had taken. Do no harm, Doctor, do no harm. Your oath, versus mine to keep the peace, and uphold the law. In any less civilized world, I would be within all rights to end your life, it would be mine for the taking, but." Bakura paused, letting his words sink it, "this piece of brass is what keeps us civilized, what keeps me from destroying you at this very moment. It would be easy you know." In a flash, a cocked pistol was at the doctors head, pointing up from under the pillow. "Remember, gold and diamonds are worth their weight in value, making men rich, but it is brass that has saved your life this day."


	23. Chapter 23

**SILHOUETTE**

**A/N:** _Thanks to ilovemanicures, dragonlady222, CrimsonStrawberry17, manga-animelove, Water Sorceress,and pro-alipro for reviewing. As always, you guys are my inspiration and motivation!_

_Okay, so, all of you should currently thank my new job and all the time it gives me to actually be creative and let my mind freeflow and actually be able to do something about it right away. And…I'm getting paid for it technically – ie. I sit in a truck all day long for 12-18 hours (sometimes longer) shifts waiting for someone to get hurt- so in my opinion it is a fantastical thing. Anyway, onward!_

_Alright everyone, one more chapter….and then surprises! _

**CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE**

_11:05am – January 26__th_

Moving out here on short notice had not been a problem. He had made some rapid phone calls securing an apartment in downtown Calgary, then made all the arrangements to furnish the apartment and then booked his flights. Having connections was a definite perk. His brother had made it fairly easy, securing the funds for him along with making the phone calls about the furniture and a transport. His assistant had been an easy sway, especially since she would be paid for the trip, six months it was suspected at a minimum that they would be here, possibly longer depending on the patient's recovery.

Lounging in the back of the car, his assistant Chiyo at his side and the driver quietly whistling along to the radio, he flipped open the file. It was a basic report, explaining the patient's injuries and going over the extreme logistics of the surgeries. Beyond that, all he had was a name.

Y. Horakhty.

Quirking a brow he lifted his gaze, one hand fiddling with the ponytail securing his rather unruly raven hair. Gaze drifting out of the vehicle he spotted the hospital down the street, along with the large locomotives signalling towards Heritage park. He was childishly fascinated by the copious amount of snow on the ground, the Glenmore Reservoir frozen and being used as a skating rink. Over the past couple of days he had done his research on the city, and he was already finding that it was far more fascinating than the pamphlets and news articles reported.

Pulling into the front of the hospital he snapped back to attention. Gathering up the file in his hand he made sure Chiyo was carrying the boxes with the joint replacements before clambering out of the car into the chilly winter air. Considering the sun was shining brightly, in his mind it should not have been this cold. Wrapping his thick trench coat tighter around himself he strode into the hospital, waving a cheerful good-bye to the driver, Chiyo following quietly behind him.

Dodging people he strode up to the information desk, presenting his I.D he said quickly, very little hint of an accent, "I am supposed to meet with Dr. Jacob Ryant, can you please tell me where to find him."

The receptionist, a short plump little woman with thick red glasses, smiled at him, "Yes, he is up in the trauma ward, probably attending to the patient that you are here to see. Check at the desk up there, they will be able to tell you what room number. The elevator is just around the corner."

"Thank you," he said cheerfully, averting and darting down the hallway he was directed to, Chiyo almost losing him in her fascination of the building. Stepping onto the elevator, glad that no one else had joined them, he hit the proper floor number and relaxed against the back. "Don't be so shy Chiyo, your English is impeccable, that's why I asked you to come."

She smiled at him, adjusting her grip on the boxes, "It just everything here is very different. I am a little absorbed in the scenery, that's all."

The elevator beeped as they reached the floor, striding out he made his way to the desk. Presenting his I.D again he repeated the same spiel. The nurse sitting behind the desk pointed towards a room down the hall, "He is in room 512, they just moved the patient down there this morning, I think he is still checking on him. If he is not there, I will page for him and send him down."

Bowing stiffly he strode to the designated room, briskly knocking on the door he waited. Hearing a voice call him in from inside he grasped the door handle, turning it he stepped into the room. A man was sitting in a chair, blocking his view of the patient, thick white hair down to his mid back and a thick green sweater was all he could see. The doctor he was seeking was hurriedly covering the patient's leg with the blanket before striding over to him, his young face beaming, "Hello, Mokuba Kaiba I presume? It's nice to finally meet you in person."

"Same here, I hate talking on the phone, it is so impersonal," Mokuba laughed, looking slightly down at the doctor. He stood nearly six feet tall, not as tall as his brother, but close. "Is this the patient, Mr. Horakhty, am I saying that right?"

Jacob Ryant nodded and smiled, "Yes, he just woke up though, so he is a little groggy," directing Mokuba over he tapped on the shoulder of the one man in the chair. "Bakura, this is Mokuba Kaiba, the head of Kaiba Corps Pharmaceutical division."

Mokuba felt his lungs tighten in shock as Bakura turned to him, an all too familiar face and one that he had never thought he would see again. Stiffly he reached out and shook Bakura's hand, gaining a strong shake back and a small smile, russet eyes scanning him, "Nice to meet you are you family?"

"Yes, of sorts," Bakura said, sitting back down. "Significant other, if you will, to put it in a grammatically correct manner."

"Ah, I see," Mokuba smiled his nerves still on edge. His heart leapt into his throat when his gaze locked with startling and familiar crimson eyes. Mouth going dry he stared at another familiar face beyond the copious bruising and swelling, another face he thought he would never see again, a face he missed. The young man regarded him steadily, the bed holding him in a half seated position, thick tri-coloured hair spread across the pillow. It was the Pharaoh, there was no doubt about it, and his body seized when he ran through the file and the injuries that he was here to help with.

Shifting in the silence Jacob pulled Mokuba out of his trance and quietly introduced the patient on the bed, "This is Yami Horakhty."

Extending his hand Mokuba felt his hand lock with a familiar grip, the only thing out of place was the I.V line, "Nice to finally meet you as well, Mr. Horakhty. I am glad that you decided to let us hopefully help you with the products that we have brought."

Yami smiled softly, "If it's a chance at me walking and using my arm again, I'll take it," he murmured, the deep rich voice causing Mokuba to have chills run up his spine.

"Well," Jacob murmured, glancing between Yami and Mokuba. "I will leave you two be for a while. Come, Mr. Kaiba and Mrs. Hakka, we can discuss everything in my office."

Nodding dumbly Mokuba followed, gaze never leaving the ruby eyes until the door closed.

Sighing Yami closed his eyes as soon as the door closed, his one hand searching for Bakura's, finding it he held it tight. "So, he was transported to the prison finally?"

Bakura nodded, free hand tenderly ghosting up and down Yami's arm, "Yeah, doctors deemed him well enough to be alright. He is being kept in solitary confinement though until everything is fully healed." Wine coloured eyes finally re-opened and looked at him, fear and nervousness shining in them. "Like I said Yami, he will never come near you again. I have made damn sure of that."

"What about the trial?" Yami murmured out, voice hard. "He will be there then, and so will I."

Exhaling deeply Bakura scowled softly, brushing Yami's bangs out of his face, "That will be the only time. Everyone will be there with you, you won't be alone." Yami nodded, hand quivering being the only sign towards his discomfort. "What else is bothering you?"

"The surgeries," came the quiet reply. "Never had to play the waiting game before. All the ones before that I have had were emergencies."

"What about your wisdom teeth?"

"They haven't come in yet," Yami said offhandedly, barely catching the blush and slightly distraught expression that crossed Bakura's features. Cocking a brow Yami peered at him in confusion, expression one of pure innocence. "What?"

"Way to make me feel like I am really robbing the fucking cradle," came the grumbled response.

Yami blinked in puzzlement for a second before it settled in on him for the first time. There was a seven year age gape between him and Bakura. Smirking he stifled laughter as Bakura fidgeted, the slight blush there still colouring his normally pale skin. "What, suddenly don't like the idea that when I was in grade one you were in grade seven?" Receiving a heated glare he could not hold in the laughter, hand pressing against his chest to ward off some of the pain it brought. "Honestly Kura', that thought never crossed your mind when you decided you wanted this?" Receiving a nod and a stiff look for an answer Yami grinned. "Then what is the problem?"

Nervously rubbing his hands together he murmured out, "Grey, Mike and Soren keep bugging me about it, new name is Craddle Robber when you are not around." Seeing Yami grin he scowled. "It's not funny."

"It's absolutely hilarious, don't even try and deny it," Yami chuckled, mirth in his eyes for the first time in days.

Sighing Bakura shrugged in mild agreement, gaze lifting to lock on Yami's face, "It never even entered your mind, did it?"

"No, should it have?"

"What if I was thirty, or older?"

Quirking a brow Yami shook his head in amusement, "It would not matter to me. Really, honestly, it would probably only get weird for me if you were my parent's age."

"Which was?"

"Mom had just turned forty-six and, Dad was forty-nine."

Seeing Yami's hand drift up and grip the necklace Bakura frowned lightly in concern, "Should we stop?"

Heaving a deep sigh Yami nodded, eyes glassing over and focusing on the blanket, "Please."

Standing up Bakura shifted from the chair to sitting on the edge of the bed, bracing a hand on either side of Yami's head he leaned forward, leaving barely inches between his and Yami's face. "You've been holding all this in pretty well love, you know that if you need to scream, cry, freak out, whatever the fuck it is that you need, that you can do it right? There is no shame in it." Shakily Yami nodded, eyes not meeting the russet gaze that was searching his out.

Yami hated this with a fiery passion. His emotions had been on a permanent influx, ebbing and flowing beyond his control or comprehension. The easiest way he could describe it in his own mind was he was on major mood swings, worse than a pregnant woman, the thought usually bringing both a chuckle and scowl from him. The waves would hit him suddenly, without warning, and if they were triggered it was something so small that he mentally was kicking himself for reacting. His moods fluctuated between angry, scared, self-loathing and in such a state of melancholy that holding back from crying was damn difficult. Bakura was right, he had been holding it in pretty well, but internally he was ready to burst, and he did not know how much longer he could keep himself composed.

Sensing the internal turmoil reeling within Yami, Bakura closed the gap and gently pressed his lips against Yami's in a soft comforting kiss. Feeling Yami's hand grip the sleeve of his shirt he relaxed, letting his one hand support him while the other slithered through Yami's hair and cupped the back of the young man's head pulling him closer, trying to avoid bruises as he did so. He needed this as much as he suspected Yami did, the two of them had done barely more than the odd chaste kiss, holding hands and loosely holding each other if Yami was up to it. He missed the small amount of intimacy they had developed before Alphonse had stormed back into their lives. Thoughts were confirmed when he felt dampness against his hand, along with the sound of Yami chocking back sobs. Gently, and without pushing, Bakura deepened the kiss, his hand shifting to ghost down Yami's jaw and neck eliciting small gasps from the EMT. Feeling more than hearing Yami's breathing increase he pulled away, allowing Yami to try and calm, his lips ghosting along the bruised jaw with the tenderness of a feather. Softly he caressed Yami's cheeks, wiping away tears as he did so only for more to join. He could feel Yami trembling as he tried to hold back, sighing he tenderly wrapped his one arm around Yami, glad when the young man clung to him and allowed the damn to break. Holding him close Bakura remained silent as Yami cried, soft sobs raking the young man's body. Raining light and chaste kisses against Yami's face he waited, monitoring Yami's breathing when it began to get ragged.

Shifting back Bakura stared down into tear filled garnet eyes he saw the silent plea within them. Rotating so that he could lay down on his side he slowly enveloped Yami in his arms, digits softly running over the young man's face and through his hair in an attempt to calm him. Yami was clinging to him, his one hand clenched as tight as it could with a full grasp on the front of his sweater. Resting against the pillow Bakura continued trying to soothe Yami, thankful that the EMT was letting it out even though it was heart wrenching for himself to experience.

Eventually, after some time Bakura felt Yami's body shudder and the crying subsided, replaced with the odd almost convulsive shiver as Yami's lungs tried to adjust. Lifting his head a bit so he could see Yami's face Bakura sighed, relaxing back he held Yami's now sleeping body, allowing exhaustion to creep over him and allow him to join Yami in slumber. His own mind drained from the experience.

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_2:30pm – Rockyview Hospital _

After several hours of in depth conversation Mokuba followed silently behind Jacob Ryant as the doctor lead him and Chiyo back to Yami's room. Stopping Jacob quietly rasped on the door before opening it, Mokuba almost stumbled to a halt in shock, the third bout if it he had so far today. Bakura was sitting up on the edge of the bed, his one hand tenderly caressing Yami's bruised face, russet eyes peering down at the young man with a look of somnolence and affection. Straightening himself Mokuba cleared his throat; the detective finally looked up and acknowledged their presence.

Jacob smiled, his expression soft, "How are you holding up?"

Shrugging indifferently Bakura slipped off the bed, hand never leaving Yami's form, "He's sleeping, finally, let out some steam." Gaining a pointed look Bakura scowled before finally answering. "Rough, alright, but I've been worse."

"Your fever finally gone?" A nod, pleased with the answer Jacob skirted around to the other side of the bed, knowing full well that Bakura was watching him like a hawk. Pulling out the thermometer from his pocket he gently ran it over Yami's forehead, a small groan signalling that it had stirred him into alertness as Jacob pulled the device back and read the monitor. "Your's has finally dropped another degree, only took four days." Blearily Yami stared up at him, clearly disoriented. "You still feeling woozy?"

Weakly Yami nodded, "Yes."

"We need to rectify that before we can operate," Jacob said, glancing over at Mokuba and Chiyo. "I am going to supervise them for a minute Yami, Chiyo here is going to check your mobility and observe the injuries. When she is done I am going to run down and check your blood test, see if there is anything I can work up to ward off the rest of that fever and the nausea. Sound good?"

Gulping Yami nodded nervously, body stiffening the instant Chiyo came up to the bedside. Catching it, Jacob signalled to Bakura, "Give him your hand, he'll need something to grip and distract himself." Without a second thought the detective laced his fingers with Yami's, holding them tightly. Quickly, and with expert ease Jacob placed the non-rebreather mask back on Yami's face, the thing finally having remained off for the past two days. Seeing the oxygen bring some modicum of ease to Yami's stiff form Jacob said firmly. "Yami, you need to relax. I know this is going to hurt, trust me I understand that, but it needs to be done, alright?" Gaining a strained nod, and crimson eyes closing, Jacob encouraged Chiyo back over.

Standing off to the side Mokuba watched- eyes going wide in horror- Chiyo pull back the blankets from Yami's knees. One was thickly bandaged, said bandaging he could tell was all that was keeping the limb from flailing about, he could see the metal splinting in it increasing the stability of it. The other, he cringed, gaze absorbing the image before him. Chiyo slowly, with Jacob's help, supported Yami's less injured knee and un-wrapped the bandages revealing the large cross incisions and the extensive stitches. Covering his mouth Mokuba spotted Bakura divert his own attention away, something akin to shame written in his eyes. The incision was angry and red, swollen beyond belief, but thankfully not front infection. Mokuba knew instantly that these injuries were not by accident, and those lines were not normal incisions from surgery. He had thoroughly studied joint surgeries over the past couple of years, and he knew those marks matched nothing that he had ever seen. In the file how the injuries occurred was not explained, just what the damage was. Grey eyes lifting from where they were engrossed he moved them to Yami's face, once again taking in the familiar face that he had so missed. Yami's eyes were closed, jaw clenched tightly against the pain while sweat was beginning to form thickly on the young man's already clammy skin.

Slow and meticulously Chiyo manipulated the joint, watching and gauging Yami's facial expressions to guess what his tolerance level was and if she was pushing too far. She could feel Bakura watching her, his gaze intense and causing her some discomfort, but not enough to sway her. She could tell an overprotective boyfriend when she saw one, and this one she did not hold a grudge against his behaviour. The joint was locked pretty well into place, there was a small amount of maneuverability, but the muscles had protectively seized and were keeping the knee stiff. She could, with some pressure, force it to bend to about a thirty degree angle, but much more and she could damage it. Satisfied she gently re-wrapped the knee, ears picking up on Yami's strained breathing, he was taking short harsh breaths to keep calm through the amount of agony the movements had caused. Giving Yami's hip a gentle rub as she came around, Jacob pulling the covers back down over Yami's legs to ward off the chill, she finally got to see those ruby eyes stare up at her. Drawn to them she gave a small comforting smile, "Relax Mr. Horakhty, I know this is excruciating for you, but it will help us. Forgive me, but I need to check your shoulder as well." Yami grunted in response, this time his eyes stayed open and he observed her unwind the bandages.

Yami himself froze, staring at the wound for the first time. Alphonse had it already stitched and wrapped when he had awoken in the slaughterhouse and Jacob had yet to let him look at any of his wounds, because of this he had never seen the full extent of the damage. The crowbar had missed the minute incision Alphonse had made earlier to remove part of the bone. It was a few inches over and down, hitting him right in the middle of his upper arm. It basically looked like Alphonse, with the aid of the crowbar, had peeled back a large chunk of his arm all the way down to his elbow. It was stitched cleanly, like all his other injuries it – along with his shoulder and elbow – were excessively swollen. This was the injury Jacob had been the most worried about becoming infected, so far they had been lucky. He cringed deeply, feeling Chiyo's hands supporting the limb, one hand gingerly gripping his elbow, the other stabilizing his shoulder.

The instant she tried to rotate it Yami gasped loudly, body reflexively curling in on itself, sitting up too fast and causing his injured stomach and torso to spasm in protest. Wincing audibly he reached out with his good hand and gripped Chiyo's wrist, "Stop, I might have a high pain tolerance, but you are breaching it," he rasped out, dark eyes intense.

Swallowing hard Chiyo nodded, Jacob coming up beside her and quickly helped her apply the bandages and secure the limb against Yami's chest. Smoothly Jacob encouraged Yami to lay back down, his one hand quickly assessing to see if any damage was done from Yami's abrupt movement. Satisfied that nothing was amiss he breathed deeply, rubbing his hand through his thick dark hair, "Well, I would say that mobility is low, but we already knew that. I am going to order a more thorough ultrasound tomorrow and an arthrogram to examine the shoulder more thoroughly tomorrow."

Bakura stared across at them in confusion, "Arthrogram?"

Mokuba quickly explained, "They will be inserting a dye into Yami's shoulder along with freezing it. It will allow them to manipulate it and see all the ligaments and the joint more clearly. The ultra sound will also help them see tears to the ligaments, tendons and muscles. Some pretty extensive damage seems to have been done to the joint itself, or Yami would not be in that much pain, even with the damage done to his arm."

Comprehending Bakura, hands softly soothing Yami, looked at Jacob, "You're going to put him under right?"

Jacob nodded, "If he could not handle this, he won't be able to handle being conscious for those two procedures."

Sitting down in the chair the detective returned his attention to Yami, "What are you going to do about the nausea and the fever?"

"Well, I am going to increase the dose of morphine we are giving him, and of the antibiotics along with the amount of fluids. Hopefully that will help, does that work for you Yami?" Yami somnolently nodded, eyes already drifting shut in extreme exhaustion, system being overwhelmed. "Good, I'll start that now. Mokuba, Chiyo, if you don't mind can you wait out in the hallway for me please? If you want, the nurse at the desk can direct you down to the cafeteria."

"No problem," Mokuba said quickly, directing Chiyo out of the room, closing it behind himself as he exited.

Once the door closed Jacob peered across at Bakura, "Hold him still, please," receiving a questioning look from the detective before clarity lit in them as he pulled out a contained needle from his lab coat. "Yami, I am going to give you a shot of Demerol, it will diminish the pain fast while the increased morphine dose kicks in. I want you to sleep, let your body recuperate from this, alright?" Absently Yami nodded in response, sweat damp face buried in the pillow. Checking that Bakura had Yami moderately restrained he quickly prepped the needle before shoving it into the joint. Yami's face scrunched up and his mouth opened in a silent scream before his body went slack, unconscious. Removing the needle Jacob disposed it in the sharps container nearby, snapping off the gloves he had been wearing he shared a brief look with Bakura, hands moving to fidget with the to increase the dosages. "Sorry, it was the only option I really had."

"I know," Bakura murmured, one hand brushing sweat soaked bangs away from Yami's face. "Do you really think these, joint products, will make a difference?"

Nodding Jacob crossed his arm, expression thoughtful, "With the basic products we have available, his chances of walking without issue again is about half the probability than it is with the products Mokuba invented. I want to give Yami the best shot he has at fully recovering from this on the physical end. I cannot help his mental status, I am not trained enough for that, but I will do what I can to make sure he can walk and move that arm again."

"Thanks."

Stiffly bobbing his head Jacob moved to exit the room, "I am going to schedule the surgery for the twenty-ninth for the early morning; he should be good to go by then. When do you have to go back to work?"

"A year," Bakura stated, catching the surprised look he received. "I talked to the chief yesterday, going to take a year stress leave. I need it, and I need to be there for Yami, plain and simple. Rick granted it, so I won't be returning to active duty till January next year; Grey is doing the same thing."

"Good," Jacob said quickly, recovering from his surprise, opening the room door. "That was probably a grueling case, you two deserve a break."

Bakura lifted his head, realising that he had been in a daze, at the sound of the door clicking closed. Blinking in bewilderment he diverted back to Yami, large hands smoothing the remaining parts of golden bangs that had stuck to the EMT's face. Exhaling deeply he reached into his pocket, pulling out his cellphone he punched in Mike's number. Putting the phone up to his ear he waited.

"_Something wrong brat?" _

"Can you come down to the hospital?" He asked, voice quiet and tired even to his own ears.

"_Sure, what's up Kura'? I was there this morning and everything was alright." _

"I need some sleep, and food. The people from Kaiba Corp arrived today, stressed Yami out pretty badly when they had to check his mobility, he's out cold right now. I just, really need someone else here right now, feeling overwhelmed with this whole situation," he admitted, head hanging sheepishly, hand scrubbing through thick snow coloured hair.

Mike sighed on the other end of the phone, understanding in his tone, "_I'll be right there. Give me a few minutes though, I will grab you some grub that is not hospital slop. I've also got to see if Soren will check on Reno for us if I am going to be there for a while." _

"Soren's on shift, he's working a night," informed Bakura, leaning his arms against his knees, slouching forward. "Give him a call though; he'll be able to ask Kieran to, or Crissy. They all have keys."

"_True enough. Alright, I'll be right over."_

"Thanks," clicking the cellphone and placing it back in his pocket he covered his face with his hands, body slouching completely. Weakly, energy sapped from him, he crossed his arms on the mattress and rested his head against them, dark eyes peering around the strangely dark room. The curtains were being kept closed, considering Yami was constantly sleeping, the only light was that of the little bit of sun that poked around the edges of the curtains and the overhead light over Yami's bed. Stretching his arm out he placed it on Yami's stomach, gaining a small bit of comfort as he felt it expand and contract with Yami's slow breathing. Exhausted he closed his eyes; he could sleep till Mike arrived. Decision made, he let his mind slip into oblivion.

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_7:23 am - January 29__th__ – Rockyview Hospital _

In full uniform, the stink from working a long shift still on him, and a large bag of Chinese food in his arms Soren meandered through the halls of the hospital. Bypassing the glares directed at him from the nurses he strode to Yami's room, steel toe boots clicking on the ground as he went. Twisting the door handle, with some tricky maneuvering to keep a full hold on the bag of food, he pushed the door open.

Mike was sitting in one of the chairs, body facing him with legs crossed and a book in his hands. Bakura was doing the same, except his book was resting on the sheets of the bed. Yami was sleeping still, propped up with pillows and thickly covered in thermal blankets, his sleeping face calm and serene. Checking his watch again Soren confirmed to himself that it was the right time, and was the right day. The first of three surgeries was today, in the next hour if his information from Bakura had been right. Yami's fever had finally abated, and the nausea had decreased to a more bearable level, and with the examination of the two other procedures done on his shoulder they were ready to start the steps to recovery.

Placing the rather heavy paper bag on a nearby nightstand he chuckled, Bakura and Mike both were startled out of their fierce concentration, the detective's book clattering loudly to the floor.

"The hell Soren?" grumbled Bakura, quickly gathering up his book, noting with relief that Yami had not stirred from all the noise. "Do you enjoy watching my heart jump into my throat?"

"Hmm, yep," Soren chuckled, opening the bag, letting the smell of the food waft out and draw the two other men's attention. "I figured you guys would want something to eat, but Smitty's and Denny's won't let me take care-packages for some odd reason, so you get Chinese food."

"I am going to get fat eating all of this fast food," Mike mildly complained, nimbly catching the small container of noodles Soren chucked at him.

Grinning stupidly Soren plopped down onto the other empty bed in the room, popping open the container in his hands he got his fork ready for consumption. "I could eat it all for you." Protectively, and amid laughter, Mike hid the container behind his back from Soren with a fierce glare. "See, you love me."

"I sure as hell don't right now," came a grumbled retort from the bed, everyone jolting and turning to see Yami wide awake and staring at them. "For once the smell of food is not making me feel sick."

Looking quirky and guilty Soren shifted his eyes and scratched the back of his head, "I was depending on you still not wanting food yet."

Waving his hand dismissively Yami relaxed into the pillows, "I can't eat anyway, they are going to be coming soon to wheel me down to the O.R."

Glancing at his watched Mike grunted in surprise at the passing of the time, "Have we really already been here for an hour?"

"Hour and a half almost," Bakura corrected, placing his book on the end table and getting up to go retrieve his own food. "Visiting hours start at six remember, we got here right after."

"Someone is going home to walk Reno right? He is going to go stir crazy soon," Yami questioned concern on his face. "I just started back at our morning runs again before this."

"Kieran and I have been popping over either in the morning or at night to take him for a run, well as best as Kieran will run," Soren chuckled before shoveling a large amount of food into his mouth. "He's still not very good at the whole one foot in front of the other since that growth spurt of his in the summer." Yami chuckled lightly at that, remembering that the young teen had grown six inches very abruptly from June to August, his limbs gangly and unmanageable.

"I've been taking him for walks everyday too, short ones, but it's something," Mike added, gaining Yami's full and appreciated attention. "I also let him loose in the yard; I'll chuck a ball with him for a bit before he just basically says fuck you and starts running loops along the fence. I am waiting for him to just hop it and start taking himself for a run around the block. Damn dog has more energy that the energizer bunny."

Relieved Yami smiled softly, "Thanks, I've been worried about him."

A soft knock on the door gained all of their attention, Mokuba's head poking in around the door, "Can I come in?"

Soren quirked a brow at him, a sly grin on his face, "No need to be like a little kid, we don't bite."

"Says you," Bakura quipped, a playful smirk beaming at Mokuba, a sight that was still unsettling for the young man. "Come on in."

Slipping in and closing the door with a metallic click, Mokuba looked up at the group in the room. He had already met Mike during the previous days, but not the other individual that jibbed playfully at him. Striding forward and extending his hand he, after watching Soren shuffle and precariously hold on to his food while freeing a hand, shook his with a firm grip. "I am Mokuba Kaiba."

Soren, quirky grin still on his face, finished the hand shake and patted the young man on the shoulder, "Soren Drayven, I'm Yami's childhood friend and his work partner."

Having not been informed of that yet Mokuba stared across at Yami, surprised but not at the information, "So you are an Emergency Medical Technician, Paramedic?"

Yami gave a small nod, a quick glimmer of despondency in his eyes before it faded, "Yes, technically just an EMT-A."

"EMT-A?"

Piping up, with a mouth full of food, Soren answered, "There are five levels of emergency medicine. First Aid, Advanced First Aid and its many branch offs. Then, there is Emergency Medical Responder which is a base level paramedic and they can administer basic levels of primary care and are able to work within an ambulance, a lot of time they usually just work in the oil field or on construction sites though. EMT-A, which is the secondary level and one where you can get a full time position in an ambulance and are at the Basic Life Support scope, so there is more drugs and significantly more procedures that you can do along with more anatomy knowledge. Lastly, there is EMT-P, which is Advanced Life Support. Basically they can do everything that can be done in the field, like say a tracheotomy, or minor surgical based procedures, they also have access to more drugs and more procedures that they can do. EMT-P's are also the ones that can transition into STARS Flight Medics if they so choose. At least, that's how it works in Alberta."

"It's also technically a degree program in Emergency Medicine," Yami finished, one hand absently fidgeting with the tensors around his left arm. "EMT-A and EMR are just certificate programs and continuing education. EMT-P is a full two year degree program."

"Ah, sounds complicated," Mokuba murmured, scratching his head as he absorbed it all.

All went silent in the room when a cell phone rang boisterously, the MASH theme blaring shrilly. Fumbling for his phone Bakura pulled it out, catching the glares he quickly flipped it open, "Detective Bakura, what's up?"

"_Drop the formalities Kura'," _came Grey's voice loudly. "_Sorry to be quick, and use you, but can you pass the phone to Yami, I want to talk to him before he goes into surgery." _

"Don't I feel the love," he said sarcastically before handing the phone off to Yami, smiling at the bemused expression on Yami's face. Taking the phone Yami pressed it up to his ear, sending Mokuba an apologetic look before conversing quietly. Head turning Bakura looked up at the young raven haired man, "Was there something that you came here for Mokuba?"

"Just to check in before the surgery, Dr. Ryant was right behind me, he'll be up shortly."

"Ah, well that was good of you," Mike stated, slurping back some of his noodles. "Seems like little mister will be distracted right up until he has to go down, which is good."

"Nervous?"

Mike nodded, "Understandably so, it's a new procedure, and the brat has never had a planned surgery before."

The hospital room door opened abruptly, Jacob striding in with a nurse following quietly behind. Yami, quickly and with apprehension, said good-bye to Grey and handed the cell phone back to Bakura, fingers shaking. Taking the shaking hand and giving it a comforting squeeze Bakura watched Jacob come up to the side of the bed, regarding everyone in the room kindly.

"Time to go, are you ready."

Swallowing hard Yami barely nodded, his grip tightening on Bakura's hand. Stiffening in surprise when Bakura kissed him Yami realised he had been in a momentary daze he glanced at the detective, nervousness obvious. A soft smile and another gentle kiss from Bakura was all he got before he could feel the bed moving. Bakura quickly followed, leaning down as the bed stalled in front of the door the detective whispered quietly, "I will be right here when you get out. I love you."

Stunned Yami stared up at him, barely finding the words to reply back as the sentiment spoken aloud for the first time fully settled on him. "I love you too."

Jacob sent Bakura a smile and a small wink before wheeling Yami out of the room with the nurse, "I will let you guys know as soon as he is out."

Numbly Bakura nodded, his gaze locked with affectionate crimson before they were forced to break and the door closed.

**A/N:** _Next chapter is the last one people, then the surprises start. _


	24. Epilogue

**SILHOUETTE**

**A/N:** _Thanks to everyone that has enjoyed and so loyally followed this story. I really hope all of you enjoyed it as much as I have, especially in the last few months since my writers block has dissipated and I have finally been able to just let my thoughts free flow. _

_And, for the message at the bottom of the chapter, thank Soularia Reed and my boyfriend, for their support and for their brainstorming sprees with me on the surprise I have for you all! _

_Anyway, enjoy this brief little finalization!_

**Epilogue **

_March 20__th__ – Two Months Later_

One hand was cold upon the plastic of the steering wheel while the other was sufficiently warm, another hand that was smaller than his holding it tightly on the seat. The rumble of the truck was the only sound that could be heard, aside from the radio with its volume down low. They were travelling down Stoney Trail nearly at the Harvest Hills Exit, taking the long way home to avoid the rush hour traffic that they would have met going down Glenmore or Deerfoot trail.

Bakura was quiet and apprehensive. Mike, in all his sporadic nature, had gone and bought a new house not long after Yami's first surgery. He had explained all his reasoning's to Bakura, but lied and claimed frivolity and wanting a larger place for his expanding family to Yami. Wanting Yami to feel safer, and for himself and Bakura to as well, he wanted to move them to a new home that Alphonse did not know of. It had been a quick deal, the seller of the home needed out fast and gave them a quick sign over. The old house was already sold, being moved into within the next week. Bakura and Mike, along with their friends as their availability was there, had moved everything over to the new house and fully un-packed so that Yami did not even try and panic to clean or move things. They had moved into Panorama Hills, Mike splurged on a near million dollar home, mortgage already paid off he gained a full profit from the old home which had been worth more. It was a gorgeous house, and Mike had taken a month to contract people out to come in and re-paint the entire home and rip out the existing basic flooring and replace it with dark bamboo hardwood and smooth tile all the way through, aside from the thick carpet he had installed in the basement. The other fun splurge he had gone on was replacing almost a large amount of the furniture, donating the rest to either Soren and Abby in their search for a new house of their own, or to charity organizations. Needless to say, beyond the copious amount of time spent at the hospital, Bakura and Mike had been busy.

Taking the exit off Stoney Bakura rotated the wheel and directed them into the housing district. Not holding back the mirth at Yami's wide eyed expression and dropped mouth as they pulled up to the home. It was a single story massive home, the basement fully finished and a walk out into a decent sized backyard. The entire front was dark slate stones, black trim and dark grey stucco. Crimson eyes snapped back to him, "I thought you said it was smaller and less extravagant!"

Smiling Bakura leaned over and pecked Yami on the cheek, "I lied."

"No shit," Yami muttered, other hand gripping tightly at the wood and metal object in his hand. "Stairs?"

"Just into the basement," Bakura answered, popping out of the truck and moving around to open the door on Yami's side continued. "It's all basically one level; you know Mike hates two story houses. He took over the basement though, created a man cave down there with the home theatre system and claimed one of the two bedrooms down there. Soren is never going to leave when he sees it, and that the x-box Mike bought for you is hooked up to it."

Chuckling Yami rotated himself so he was facing out of the truck, passing out his cane to Bakura first before allowing the detective to grip his hips. "There are going to be some really epic games of Dead Space happening pretty soon then, the second one came out, he has not stopped buzzing about it for a week." Hands stabilizing on Bakura's shoulder's Yami allowed himself to be lifted out of the truck and gently place onto the ground. He winced briefly, but calmed quickly and stabilized himself with the cane, a rushed feeling of pride going through him when Bakura stepped away and he could stand up on his own. It had taken a lot of work to get him to this point, and it was still an iffy process. His one knee had healed well, while the other was still taking its sweet time. Mobility in both was still limited, but at least the less injured one he could move it and function with it with minimal pain, the other was nowhere to that ability but it would get there. His shoulder was still stabilized with a sling and a cast, but it was a start, he had started to be able to do basic movements and the x-rays looked good.

Smiling Bakura took in Yami's glowing face, glad that all the bruises had finally faded to leave the young man's normal bronze skin. "Are you ready?"

Gaze drifting up to Bakura, body relaxing and leaning into the detective when the man wrapped an arm around his shoulders. "Yes." With shaky and unease steps, but with Bakura's rock solid support, Yami made his way slowly into his new home, Reno's barking already loudly greeting him.

**A/N:** _And now, my loyal and amazing fans….ONTO THE SEQUEL! Hahaha, and you thought I was done with the psychosis :D_


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